


The Proposal That Artemis Fowled Up

by miss_coverly



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Convoluted Plan, Cute, Everything That Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong, F/M, Fluff, Hilarity Ensues, Humor, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-08-12 06:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7924345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_coverly/pseuds/miss_coverly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Has our favorite 24-year-old boy genius finally gotten in over his head? The tale of Artemis asking Holly to become his "business partner"... although Artemis is probably the first person to phrase a marriage proposal that way. Featuring unwanted but desperately needed help from Myles and Beckett, the Butlers, and all of your favorite friends from under the world! Post TLG, A/H.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello dear readers! I am so excited to write my first multi-chapter fanfic. I will try to update as often as I can - but my motivation, not to mention my schedule, can be quite fickle, so please bear with me!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl.
> 
> Enjoy! Constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated. I'd love to hear your thoughts!

_3:26am_.

Artemis Fowl II heard the beginning of a long sequence of high-pitched tones, his sleep-clouded eyes opening almost instantly. The 24-year-old (or was it 27-year-old? Oh, never mind...) reached over to his bedside table and slapped the alarm clock's snooze button with incredible accuracy, silencing the alarm at once.

This very un-Artemis-like moment of coordination was only executed correctly because it had, of course, been meticulously orchestrated by Artemis himself. The previous afternoon, he had moved the clock into reaching distance from his bed, and he had diligently studied the position of the clock in relation to the exact spot in which he typically slept.

Yes, perhaps this was a lot of effort only to keep the ringing of his alarm clock to the minimum amount. But it was vitally important to his plan that no one should hear his alarm blaring at 3:26am. _Especially_ not the auburn-haired elf sleeping next to him.

 _Important to the plan_ , thought Artemis, checking to make sure that I Holly Short was still asleep. Luckily, her only reaction was to let out a long snore at that moment, shifting from her side onto her stomach.

 _And still you sleep, Captain? Honestly, I would've expected a soldier to have better reflexes_. A small smile nonetheless turned up the corners of his thin lips.

Artemis carefully pulled away the various blankets on the bed, sliding his legs out centimeter by centimeter, so as to not disturb Holly's slumber. He tip-toed as noiselessly as he could across the room. He didn't let out the breath he was holding until he had closed the door behind him, wincing with every squeak of the hinges.

He walked hurriedly down the manor hallway towards his study. He knew the "path" well, having traveled it most days of his life, so he had not felt the need to practice this leg of his journey so intensely beforehand. A short moment of relaxation.

To Artemis's satisfaction, the route had remained the same as it always was. The only complication was Beckett's _3DS_ gaming device laying in the middle of the hallway, a few steps in front of Artemis's study. Needless to say, Artemis had not expected this tiny but treacherous roadblock.

At least his slight frame allowed him to tumble to the floor in a somewhat quiet fashion.

He sighed, closing the remaining distance between himself and the study through a mixture of crawling and hopping on one foot.

Once inside his study, Artemis groped blindly but quickly towards his desk on the far side of the room - he did not flip on the lights; an unnecessary precaution, perhaps, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

He could now get down to business, as that historically-deviant Disney film said. Reaching into the top drawer under his desk, he grabbed a sharpened pencil and notebook with "A Most _Fowl_ Proposal For Captain Holly Short" written on it (Artemis had reasoned that since no one would ever see the notebook, he would allow himself to make a mediocre pun just this once). He then sat down in front of his vast array of computer screens, keyboards, and voice recognition software.

Most of his gadgets fought among themselves for a portion of his limited desk space; however, there was a spot that had obviously been carefully cleared so that the picture could be viewed without any visual interference.

Artemis paused briefly to look at this framed photograph of him and Holly. It had been taken during their first date, about three years ago. They'd had a picnic, under the shade of a particular ancient oak tree that stood near the bend in the river - the same spot where they'd first met, where he had kidnapped her all those years ago.

Holly had appreciated the irony.

Another small smile.

He started up his computer system, making sure that activity would be limited to the screen of his personal laptop only. The last thing he needed was a noisy advertisement popping up on every open screen in his study; in that case, he might as well have just ran down the hallway while shouting into a megaphone. Either method would have sufficiently awoken everyone in the manor.

Upon hearing his computer _hum_ to life, Artemis went directly to his search engine. He began to type his topic of research into the text box - yes, Artemis Fowl was typing using an old-fashioned keyboard. For this particular project, using voice commands was not nearly, eh, discreet enough for Artemis's taste.

_How does one propose to one's significant other?_

Just before he tapped the "enter" button, Artemis paused, observing that his heart rate had increased slightly.

 _How curious_ , he thought. _Artemis Fowl becomes a hopeless romantic when confronted with a serious relationship._

This statement was not entirely accurate, as anyone who had just witnessed the first stage of Artemis's plan could attest to. Given all of the complex maneuvering he had already executed that night, one could not say that the man was hopeless.

... However, _two_ could perhaps say that he was hopeless. And they walked into Artemis's study at that exact moment.

"Doing a little midnight scheming, are we, brother?"

In a frenzy, Artemis weakly smacked at the various buttons and keys that sat before him. Normally, the man would not have found exiting his Internet browser to be so difficult, but these circumstances were already leaving him quite addled and - he realized with dismay - unexpectedly incompetent.

_Perhaps I am not a hopeless romantic. Only hopeless. Ha._

Artemis finally located that evasive red "X" button in the corner of his screen, clicking it and getting rid of all traces of his in-progress plan. He took a brief moment to collect himself; he tried his best to stop his hands from shaking, and hoped to return his facial complexion to normal by willing all color to drain from it. He then turned around as nonchalantly as possible in his office chair, coming face to face with Myles and Beckett.

"Eh... not particularly," said Artemis. He could tangibly feel his excuse not convincing the twins. "I was having a bout of insomnia, when I suddenly felt inspired to get up and conduct a little research on... seasonal sleeping patterns." While he was quite skilled at employing the speech patterns of someone who was telling the truth, Artemis internally winced at this _lame_ conclusion. It was the best he could do on such short notice; he would never admit it (although Holly most certainly would), but one of his most glaring personality flaws was that he never constructed a Plan B. While his Plan A could be - and arguably had been, in this case - completely ingenious, if something unanticipated happened, he didn't really have a second course of action prepared.

"How intriguing." Myles smirked, waving around a flashlight so he could examine the various objects in the room. "I wonder how Captain Short's sleeping patterns are being affected? For one thing, it would seem that the coming of spring has caused her to only want to sleep in the guest room for a little while every night. But your room, Artemis, she seems to be quite alright with sleeping there."

The 12-year-old let out a trail of smug giggles, appealing to Beckett to share in the laughter; Beckett tried his best, but was obviously too tired to even catch the joke. It was clear that Myles had dragged Beckett along against his will.

Artemis felt his face heat up involuntarily, but he kept his voice even. "Really, Myles, that's the best you could do?" he said, unperturbed. "Such a _primary school_ joke. Even when I was your age, that immature humor was beneath me."

Nevertheless, he was suddenly grateful that the back-lighting of his computer screen would not show the reddening of his cheeks.

"Nothing is ever quite as funny as a good poop joke," said Beckett, who seemed half-asleep, but probably would've said the same thing when fully awake.

"Honestly, can't we drop this 'insomnia' pretense?" Myles narrowed his eyes; he _knew_ that he had hit a nerve with his teasing, which meant that his suspicions weren't that far off-the-mark. "It's clear that this late-night adventure of yours was premeditated."

"And how is that so, little man?" Although his brothers were almost teenagers, Artemis still had a full decade over them. If Myles felt he was being patronized, he would hopefully leave the study in a huff, dragging an almost-sleeping Beckett with him. Then Artemis could get back to his... research.

But Myles could not be coerced into leaving that easily. "This morning we could hear you testing your clock's alarm over and over again, locked up in your room all day. I figured that you were planning something top-secret for tonight, because why else would you be practicing shutting off your alarm without waking anyone? All I had to do to confirm my suspicions was inspect the clock myself, which was set for 3:26am. 'S not something that just _happens_ , brother."

"I see," said Artemis, examining his nails.

"Then, it was only a matter of distracting Beckett with an obstacle course, so he would abandon his 3DS in front of your study. There was a strong probability that you would trip over it while coming down the hallway, which you inevitably did-" and in spite of his business-like telling of events, Myles could not suppress a wicked grin at this, "-and so I was able to pinpoint your location."

 _Hmm_ , thought Artemis. _It appears that my brother has become quite the evil analyst._

_A chip off the old block._

"Very well, I know when I've been found out," said Artemis, backtracking. Perhaps he could still dig his way out of this. "I wanted to refrain from appearing too obsessive... which is why I tried to pull off this as an elaborate ruse. The truth is, I was... _very_ interested in researching seasonal sleeping patterns. So yes... I did have a plan after all."

Artemis stood up from his chair, then walked towards Myles to personally usher him _out_. "Congratulations, little man, you've caught me. So why don't you two retire to your bedrooms now?"

"Oh, but my work isn't done yet." Myles side-stepped Artemis's feeble corralling attempts.

"What do you want, Myles?" said Artemis, exasperated. He glanced at the clock on his desk, and was dismayed to see that it already said _3:53am_. He was behind schedule now. At this rate, he'd never be well-rested for tomorrow.

"Obviously you are in the process of carrying out a top-secret, but thrilling, money-making scheme," said Myles confidently, "and Beckett and I want to be added on as your business partners."

"Hmm, I wonder if Holly will be a business partner as well."

Myles and Artemis both turned to look at Beckett. While his brothers had been arguing, Beckett had wandered over to Artemis's desk, and was now looking curiously at one of Artemis's notebooks.

"What do you have there, Beck?" said Myles, sliding past Artemis and inspecting this new evidence for himself. He read the title on the otherwise nondescript notebook, an expression of outrage forming on his youthful face. "'A Most _Fowl_ Proposal for Captain Holly Short'? This is unfathomable! I can't believe I didn't see what was going on sooner..."

If one could slip on a banana peel and promptly fall off the edge of a cliff to their doom, then that was exactly what Artemis was doing by then. But in an emotional sense.

_Damn. Who could've guessed that one mediocre pun would be the cause of my downfall._

_I honestly should've expected this._

Myles's eyes narrowed as he left the notebook with Beckett and turned to confront Artemis.

"I can't believe you were planning on making a business deal with Captain Short without consulting your own brothers!" said Myles disdainfully. "You were blinded by the economic power that there is in a magic-possessing partner, and you failed to consider how valuable Beckett and I could be to the proceedings!"

Beckett, in his sleepiness, was surprisingly perceptive. He was, perhaps, even more perceptive than either of his genius brothers would ever be.

"Don't worry, Myles, I don't think we would've wanted to be partners in _this_ business deal of Arty's anyway," he said earnestly. "I mean, I want _no_ part of all that kissing..."

Myles paled. "... what do you mean, Beck?" He could think of no business transactions where _kissing_ of all things would be appropriate - bless his innocent soul.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Beckett, and behind the dazed expression of someone who was barely staying awake as he spoke, Artemis could've sworn that he saw just a hint of smugness dancing across his little brother's face. "This is no business proposal, it's a marriage proposal! Arty wants to marry the Captain, but he has to keep it a secret."

"That _would_ explain the sneaking around at three in the morning." Myles crinkled his nose, dumbfounded by how his accusations had been, ah, slightly off-the-mark after all.

Artemis was not used to people figuring out his dastardly - or marital, for that matter - plans. And he was definitely not used to _Beckett_ of all people doing the figuring. But now that the clock read _4:04am_ , he no longer had time to avoid his brothers' prying.

"Okay, boys, you've succeeded in discovering my true intentions," said Artemis, trying again to usher the boys through the door, "and with that discovery, I hope you see why it is imperative that you both go back to bed now. We don't have much longer before someone inevitably hears us all talking, and then my cover will be 'blown', as Butler would say."

"Nonsense, we can't abandon you now!" Myles held his ground against Artemis's ushering... which was not actually that difficult, given Artemis's lack of physical prowess. "Artemis, now that you've asked Beckett and I for help-"

"I don't recall asking you two for help with _anything_ , much less proposing to my girlfriend."

"-we must stay and be of aid to you, even if your scheming takes all night."

"And knowing about Arty and his challenges with girls, this probably _will_ take all night," said Beckett.

Artemis sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he now had two more "business partners" for this project. But, if he was being completely honest, his most Fowl proposal for Captain Holly Short _did_ need as much help as it could get... or else, the proposal could end up being both Fowl _and_ foul.

And Artemis had no intention of letting _that_ pun gain any validity. That simply would not do.


	2. How to Propose to Girl

The three brothers started right away on their research. Artemis sat back down in his chair while the twins peered over his shoulders.

As it turns out, computers did not appreciate being smacked around just because their operator did not want anyone to see what he was researching. Therefore, the computer took its time reloading, and it was _4:10am_ by the time Artemis was once again looking at his search engine.

"Well, go ahead." Myles gestured at Artemis's keyboard.

Pushing away any nervousness that he might've been feeling, Artemis began typing. _How does one propose to one's significant other?_ And for the second time that night, Artemis was stopped before he could press enter.

"Wait a second," said Myles, eyeing the filter settings on Artemis's Internet browser. "Why did you route your search through Web MD, Legal Advice, and National Health Service?"

Artemis did not have a solid answer. "I don't know, those sites generally yield accurate information during research."

"Not for the type of research we're doing," said Myles.

"And Arty, nothing will come up if you phrase your question like a formal business letter!" said a now more-awake Beckett. He reached past Artemis to do some re-typing.

The night's events so far were making Artemis question if he was actually ready for the next day. He was suddenly feeling very underprepared; at first he had reasoned that he would come up with his plan the night before he planned to "pop the question". That way, no one could accidentally stumble upon his notes and find out what he had planned, and then somehow complicate the proceedings... like Myles and Beckett just had.

_Anyway, perhaps this lack of adequate prep time will add to the spontaneity and romanticism of the proposal_ , thought Artemis. _I do my best thinking under pressure._

... On the other hand, as Artemis was quickly realizing, it might've been a good idea to do just a _little_ more pre-planning on this one. He had not anticipated that certain plans - such as those of a more, eh, vulnerable nature - would make his stomach inexplicably turn cartwheels, and leave him without the basic skills of logic, reasoning, and infallible ingenuity.

"Okay, that's better," said Beckett. He had replaced Artemis's original inquiry with the less eloquent, yet probably more effective, _how to propose to girl_. He tapped the enter button, and the first page of a thousand relevant webpages appeared on the screen.

"Let's start with that one." Myles pointed to the first result. An article entitled _10 Best Ways to Propose to a Girl_. Artemis opened the page, and the boys began to skim the tips.

At the top of the list was a paragraph entitled _Be yourself_. Artemis mostly ignored this section, as it cautioned the one proposing to keep things simple and romantic. Not Artemis's style at all - although he was getting better at the romantic gestures part. Last Valentine's Day, he had even gotten Holly flowers, chocolate, the whole nine yards.

Of course, the flowers had come from Artemis's lab and had been experimented on to produce an insect-enhancing form of super-pollen (as for what exactly "super-pollen" is, that is still unknown to everyone but the man himself). Also, Holly didn't like chocolate.

Ah well, it was the thought that counted. All of those "How to Be Romantic" articles stressed that point above all.

"Okay, look here." Myles pointed at one of the bullet points. "You could propose at the place where you two first met."

"That's no good," said Artemis. "I already used that spot for our first date. Artemis Fowl never does the same thing twice."

"But you're Artemis Fowl the _Second_..." said Beckett glibly.

"Never mind that."

The boys read through several other questionable proposal ideas, including writing the proposal on a T-shirt; proposing on a public radio program; and flying a "Will you marry me?" banner over your significant other's head.

"I still think jumping out of a box and throwing the ring at her is a great idea," said Beckett as he scribbled these ideas in the proposal notebook, despite several protests from Artemis.

Artemis went back to the search results page and scrolled down a bit, looking for a different article to catch his eye. He was going to need a guide that was a bit more substantial.

"Boys, would you say that WikiHow is a reliable source?" If Artemis had been conducting any other type of academic research, he would've scoffed at using these unofficial information sites to get solid opinions. However, most of his academic sources were - by virtue of being, well, academics - not well-versed in the romance department. So Artemis would need some... outside help to pull this one off.

Myles pursed his lips, thinking. "Well, it's a wiki, so anyone can contribute information."

"On the bright side, you'll get ideas from as many different people as possible!" chimed in Beckett.

And so Artemis opened the WikiHow entitled "How to Propose to a Woman." It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"Step one," said Beckett, full of bravura. "Make sure she is the _one_."

"I'd say she is," said Artemis stoically. A reformed-criminal he might be, but he was not a sap... and even if he was, his brothers certainly shouldn't be privy to that.

"And you're sure she'll say yes?" Myles referenced the second step in the guide. "Has Captain Short ever expressed an interest in marriage?"

"Well, no... but Holly has never been a fan of traditional things anyway," he said. "And even if she did want to get married, she wouldn't just come out and say it." Honestly, it was a miracle that the two of them had managed to get into a serious relationship at all. Neither was of the "just come out and say it" disposition.

"And this says you should date someone for a long time before proposing, so that you know they won't irritate you all the time when you're married," said Beckett. "But you and Holly have been together for _ages_ , so you should be fine."

"Yes, we should be fine on that." They had indeed been together for ages. In a manner of speaking.

* * *

Although Artemis generally thought that they'd started dating about three years ago, it was hard to pinpoint exactly when he and Holly had gone from a platonic to a romantic relationship. There had been about a year in there where things transitioned from platonic to... well, not platonic.

Of course, there had always been romantic tension present in their relationship... well, maybe not when Artemis had both been 12 years old and Holly's kidnapper. Love could certainly overcome _some_ obstacles, but those had been a little much.

Then Artemis had went and sacrificed himself to save the world and whatnot, which naturally had put a bit of a damper on any romantic relationship that might've been brewing between them.

After Artemis had been brought back from the dead, he and Holly had taken to spending a lot of time together. This tends to happen when one's best friend has been dead for six months. Making up for lost time.

They had started out as strictly friends (... or at least as "strictly friends" as they had ever been). Then one unremarkable day, they started holding hands. There was absolutely no acknowledgement of this act, and Artemis could not even remember which one of them had initiated the contact.

And so began the "not platonic" stage of their relationship. With it, next there came the occasional gift - only little, barely noticeable things like a flower, an antique pin, or an access code to a competing company's client database. Then a casual touch on the face, or on an arm... except it was all conducted in a way that was about as un-casual as one could get.

They started speaking to each other in a way that wasn't characteristic of people who were "just friends." An inexplicable change, but a shift nonetheless. Eventually, a kiss snuck itself into their lives. Nothing earth-halting. It was merely a spontaneous reaction to some exciting news.

... And then it was nothing but a moment of relief after an exhausting day. And then it was only a greeting between two old friends. And then it was just a goodbye kiss.

Since both man and elf could be aptly described with the term "emotionally evasive", they did not ever attempt to discuss any of this.

It's worth mention that, when asked later, most friends and family members said that they'd assumed Artemis and Holly were already together before any of this occurred. Therefore, most of them had been thoroughly un-shocked by this very un-platonic behavior.

As it turns out, Artemis and Holly never did get around to declaring their everlasting love to each other, or even simply discussing their feelings. Instead, just as they had let things progress from platonic to not platonic, they let things develop a little more... until they were in a relationship. As usual, they did nothing to acknowledge this.

When Holly began sleeping in his bed when she visited the manor, Artemis reasoned that it was finally safe to ask her on a date.

* * *

"Okay, boys, enough of these 'are you sure' questions," said Artemis, scrolling down to find tips that would be more pertinent to his research. "Time is of the essence. I've already made up my mind about proposing; right now I need to learn exactly _how_ to propose, which is why I'm looking at this juvenile _Wiki_ in the first place."

And so it was left up to two 12-year-olds to determine which tips were most pertinent to Artemis's research. And they had to do so in a timely manner. To their credit, they did a much better job than their elder brother could've done by himself, even at 24 years old.

"You need to decide _when_ to propose."

"Right, Myles, and I've already decided on tomorrow... which is exactly why I'm... putting this all together tonight." Artemis realized this was not making him look particularly _put together_ in front of his brothers. It was also not making him _feel_ particularly put together.

"We need to work on the 'where' as well," said Beckett, who was now unofficially in charge of note-taking. "It should be somewhere romantic. Or Holly's favorite place. Or a golf-course!"

"All good ideas. Definitely write them down," said Artemis absentmindedly. Nothing was really jumping out at him so far. A perfect location.

_Hmm, there is one place... a bit ironic, but effective..._

At any rate, he did have to admire that golf-course idea.

* * *

"Make sure you know _how_ you're going to propose," said Myles, reading off of the computer screen.

"As in what, get down on your right knee or left knee?" As Artemis went deeper and deeper down the proposal rabbit hole, he was feeling even more out of his depth. So many unexpected little details one had to consider. Advanced calculations and saving the world? Easy. But compared to asking a woman a single... trivial... question, they were beginning to look like child's play.

_I must write an essay on this one day_ , thought Artemis. _The psychological effects of "settling down with a nice girl." Completely different from my usual research efforts._

"Actually, you might want to consider not using the traditional kneeling position. The height difference might take away from the desired effect."

"You both could be sitting when you propose. Oh, or you both could be _flying_!"

"Eh... right, Beck," said Myles, a little dismayed at his brother's questionable suggestions. However, they couldn't really hurt Artemis. _Anything_ would be an improvement on his current plan - it was nonexistent, after all.

Meanwhile, Artemis was considering these last few nuggets of wisdom. _Both of us sitting... sitting on the grass..._ no, _not on the_ grass, _that's_ barbaric. _It would have to be a blanket._

Myles turned back to Artemis. "However, there's a lot more to consider than kneeling down," he said, terribly confident in his proposal knowledge for a 12-year-old. "To make things a little more exciting, you can involve friends, children, and even family pets in the proposal."

"While you know I appreciate your help in the planning stages, I think I should do the asking on my own," said Artemis. He'd prefer to not have his brothers - or any other loved ones, for that matter - present when he proposed. Who knows how they might complicate things?

_However, a family pet... I might have one that would suffice. In a manner of speaking. I'll need to put in a call to Foaly tomorrow morning..._

"Well, are you wanting to ask her in front of a large group, or would you prefer a private proposal?"

"I think Holly would want something private."

"Good choice." Myles patted Artemis on the shoulder. "You never _really_ know what the girl's answer will be, Brother, so it's better to do it in private."

Artemis did not know what to say to this.

"Moving on," said Myles quickly, sensing that his last comment would damage Artemis's ego if he thought about it long enough.

* * *

"Will you be adding an element of spectacle to the proposal? Fireworks, or a serenade?" asked Myles. He knew that his elder brother generally liked to "go big, or go home," as Juliet would say.

"No, no, Holly would find that to be much too sentimental. She might mistake me for _Orion_." Artemis shuddered, not wanting to think about how Holly would react to his other personality _serenading_ her... "On the other hand, I don't want to just _propose_. The whole operation should be reflective of the kind of grandiose adventures we've always experienced together."

"Well, here it says you could hide the ring for her to find." Beckett's eyes widened with fervor. "If you want something _grandiose_ , you should hide the ring in a _grande_ taco, and then give the taco to her..." Beckett trailed off as he wrote all of this down, swept away by his own brand of Fowl brilliance.

Both Artemis and Myles silently pondered _when_ Beckett would have ever eaten a taco in his life - and _why_ he thought it would be a nice touch for a marriage proposals.

"This does bring up another important topic," said Myles, trying to get things back to business. "Do you have a ring?"

For the first time that night, Artemis grinned in self-satisfaction. "Don't worry about that, little man. I have something in mind."

"Very well," said Myles. He silently prayed that his elder brother had not chosen some sort of meaningful, yet boorish trinket to serve as the ring. Honestly, when it came to romance, sometimes it seemed like _Artemis_ was the 12-year-old.

* * *

"I'm not doing this, Beckett."

"Arty, if you don't practice, you'll make a fool of yourself!"

"While that is a valid concern, I highly doubt that proposing to you while you pretend to be Holly will be anything like actually proposing to Holly."

"I'll have you know that I do a very good impression of Holly..."

"Right, and I'm sure that Mother's nightgown _really_ adds to it."

"I'm just trying to make the scenario as realistic as possible!"

"Well, for starters, you could do without that high-pitched voice you're putting on. Holly sounds nothing like that."

"Sometimes she does... you're not around her _all_ of the time, you know..." Beckett threw off the nightgown, sulking back to the proposal notebook to write what was probably _not_ a note about how much he admired Artemis.

"And when exactly did Holly acquire a Russian accent?"

* * *

Artemis was still sitting at his desk. He'd finally sent the twins to bed about twenty minutes ago; they weren't of much assistance when they became jittery little boys who could barely keep their eyes open. He was now looking back over the various articles that they had read that night, jotting down some additional, fragmented notes in his notebook.

_I have bits and pieces of a plan_ , he thought. _I just need to fit them all together._

In the article he was currently skimming, Artemis again reached a dreaded "Be Yourself" header. He reluctantly decided to read through the paragraph properly this time. Upon first glance, he was appalled by several grammatical errors that were present. However, he kept reading; he was on a time-limit, after all, and he was desperate to find _something_ that would spark a bit of creative genius on his part.

"'Say my heart emotions'?" mused Artemis. "Whatever that means." He usually did not indulge in talking to himself, but he was willing to forgive himself just this once, what with how he was currently managing to stay awake at six in the morning. "And be normal? I don't know if I've even _had_ a normal day since I met Holly... and she probably hasn't since she met me, either."

Artemis stared at the computer screen for a moment, then looked back at the various scribblings in his notebook. He briefly read over several of the notes, which included _jump out of a box_ , _golf course_ , _flying!_ , _put the ring in a taco_ , and an original Beckett thought that isn't worth mentioning, since it would have to be censored anyway.

His creative genius suddenly sparked. He turned to a fresh page and began writing furiously.

_Never a normal day. There hasn't been a normal day since we met, really._

Artemis thought back to the first piece of advice he'd read with the twins that night, the first of many _Be Yourself_ paragraphs. _"Keep it simple and romantic."_ Not his style at all.

And perhaps that was alright, because he _was_ supposed to be himself, according to these damned Internet guides. That was who Holly had fallen in love with, after all. By now, they'd been on too many abnormal adventures for him to convince her that he was anyone _but_ himself. An abnormal, very human mess.

Finally finished, Artemis surveyed his notebook that now contained a fully-realized plan. "Definitely not a simple proposal. But hopefully, a romantic one."

And so Artemis nearly overloaded his entire computer system, as he began sending out emails, securing items, and finalizing locations. Every detail, important to the plan.

_Tomorrow_ _is a big day._

He glanced once again at his clock, and he could've sworn that the neon green numbers he saw were cackling at him.

_6:14am_.

"Oh, my mistake," said Artemis bleakly. "I guess _today_ is actually a big day."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter, I based all of the moments with Wikihow/How to Propose articles on legitimate articles that came up when I googled "how to propose to girl" - I thought it would be interesting to see Artemis reacting to the ~actual Internet~, haha. So I give all the credit for those (somewhat questionable...) pieces of advice to their respective writers! (With the exception of the grande taco idea; that one is ALL mine.)


	3. Arty and His Challenges with Girls

A good while later (Artemis was barely keeping track of time at this point), our hero finally tip-toed back down the manor hallway and cautiously re-entered his room. He took his time to carefully close the door behind him; he was not about to let his plan come undone at the last second, simply because he had made a hinge squeak in his haste.

To Artemis's relief, Holly had not woken up since he'd left the room several hours ago. Sunlight was already creeping in through the shut window blinds. Still, perhaps he could get in a couple of hours of sleep before the rest of manor woke up. He stored his proposal notebook under the bed, then he gently slid under the covers, settling next to Holly.

For the first time that night, Artemis felt confident in his plan. He knew that the proposal was quite clever, if a bit on the sentimental side; however, it was structurally sound, so it should go off without a hitch. Or rather, _with_ a hitch. This was a marriage proposal, after all, so that was the whole point.

_Would you look at that?_ he thought. _A joke. My sleep-deprivation is showing._

Nevertheless, he still felt apprehension curling in his stomach as he drifted off to sleep. When executing a plan involving a corporate takeover or a marvel of modern science, he could manipulate the outcome, control the conditions. But a marriage proposal - especially an intricate _Fowl_ proposal - had higher stakes, much more uncontrollable variables.

For example, the answer to the proposal.

But Artemis could worry about that later. For now, both man and elf could sleep blissfully.

... For a few minutes, at least. Five minutes, to be exact. Because just as sleep overcame Artemis...

_BEEP, BEEP._

Artemis's eyes opened, fogged with confusion as to what this alarming sound was. And yet, they opened with the numb calmness of knowing exactly what certain doom they were about to encounter.

_Ah yes, that would be Holly's alarm clock. 7am sharp. Of course._

Usually, Holly would've ignored the alarm for as long as possible. However, this morning she somehow awoke with ease.

She rolled herself onto her back, settling closer to Artemis. She surprised herself with how alert she was; Artemis was usually the one who woke up promptly every morning, letting Holly hit the snooze button several times before she even attempted to drag herself out of bed.

Despite being only 40 inches tall, Holly tended to complain that Artemis's bed was simply _not_ big enough for her to fully stretch out. Given that it was a king-sized bed, Artemis was not sure how this could possibly be true; nevertheless, he had received many an "accidental" kick over the years. Perhaps having the bed to herself the night before had allowed her to wake up completely energized. It's a shame this happened on the one day when _Artemis_ felt compelled to hit the snooze button until the end of eternity.

"Good morning," said Holly as she leaned over and kissed Artemis on the cheek. She was not normally so, well, friendly in the mornings - or awake, for that matter. However, she had a good feeling about today. Yesterday, a very jittery Artemis had asked her to extend her vacation so that they could spend another day together at the manor. He wouldn't arbitrarily ask her to change her plans, Holly knew that much; if Artemis was asking her to stay an extra day, it meant that he had something special in the works.

_Perhaps he even has something he'd like to ask me... maybe._

Holly noticed that Artemis had not responded to her. His eyes had sunken shut again, and he seemed to be falling back asleep.

_Well... that's odd. It's 7am. He should already be in the middle of some international takeover by now._

She prodded him in the ribs with her knee. "Wake up, Mud Boy. I didn't stay an extra day just for you to sleep in."

In that moment, Artemis tried to be the perfect boyfriend. He really did. However, exhaustion tends to be the enemy of _all_ perfection. And in that moment, all he could manage was to turn his head a few degrees, forcing his eyes open so that he could look at Holly. "Eh... you go on without me," he said with a bleary half-smile. "I think I'll sleep for just a bit longer."

Holly rolled her eyes. "Oh Frond. Dead for six months, and he's fretting over getting seven hours of sleep, instead of eight."

Artemis did his best to roll onto his back, so as to not look entirely asleep while he talked to her. "While I was physically dead for six months, I assure you that mentally... I was keeping busy."

"I'm sure," she said, tugging on his sleeve all the same.

"And even the walking dead need sleep, Captain."

The elf propped herself back onto her elbows, puzzled. "Well, suit yourself, then." It wasn't worth it to start a fight, she reasoned.

... But then she remembered why she was even _at_ Fowl Manor this morning. "Wait a minute, Mud Boy." She sat up and narrowed her eyes at Artemis. "You _asked_ me to stay above-ground an extra day. You're not one to do something without reason."

"I'm very tired, Holly. I... had a long night."

She snorted. "Let me guess. You were up all night getting another PhD?"

"No... I couldn't sleep," he fibbed. "Because of the elf who was kicking me while _she_ slept." It was a small lie. Old habits die hard, after all.

"Troll-dung! I have _never_ kicked you in my sleep." She lay back down, crossing her arms across her chest only somewhat petulantly. "Not last night, at least," she added reluctantly.

"Right, and N*1 is _soft-spoken_."

Holly rolled back onto her side and studied Artemis.

"Okay, so just to be clear... your master plan for the day is for me to watch you sleep? Is that it?" Although she smirked, there was an unmistakably investigative nature to her words.

" _No_... that would be, eh... mundane," said Artemis evasively. "Not my style at all." He needed to throw Holly off his trail. A proposal was no good if the subject knew in advance - he'd read that around five in the morning. However, his superior intellect and remedial people skills, that would've allowed him to pull off such a ruse, were currently being squashed by a most primitive need for sleep.

"Well, what _is_ the plan, then?" A bit of color may have come into Holly's cheeks at this - or perhaps it was just a trick of the light. "You know all the hoops I had to jump through to extend my visa... make it worth my time, Arty."

Time seemed to stop. Somewhere in his proposal notebook, Artemis had had a wonderful excuse planned, a carefully constructed cover story, he was sure of it... the plan had been to stay up all night, so it was only logical that he'd need to rest after that. And would therefore need an excuse as to why he needed to do that... instead of spending the afternoon with Holly... right?

_Oh lord. It seems I did_ not _consider that until now._

Sleep threatened to drag him under. "Well, you see, I asked you to stay, because, eh..."

Time seemed to stop. And there was Holly, looking at him with her big, inquisitive eyes. For some reason, the vibrant color of her irises and her long lashes rendered his brain utterly _useless_ (as a matter of fact, she usually had this effect on him). She obviously had a very specific answer in mind, but try as he might, Artemis could _not_ for the life of him figure out what that answer was supposed to be.

Fatigue weighed heavily on his chest, and his eyelids begged to be closed. He was not at his best - too foggy to sort out the situation. Drowsiness made every planning muscle in his brain completely nonfunctional. And so he improvised:

"... I have taken an interest in cooking."

You see, while Artemis could _usually_ count on his ability to think of a plan quicker than anyone else in the room, his fatal error in this situation was assuming that he could come up with an excuse without _any_ prior planning, and without thinking about it _at all_ beforehand... and when he was running on five minutes of sleep, no less.

"Yes... and I wanted to cook you breakfast before you left. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I fear my stealth is not what it once was... eh, aging, you know."

If you listen closely, you can actually hear the precise moment when Artemis's mouth stopped listening to his brain.

Holly looked utterly baffled. "... right, okay. That's... new. But okay. And that means... you need to sleep all day, because..?"

"That is, ah... a good point, Holly... however... I was not actually going to sleep when you left. I got a full eight hours last night, in fact." This was probably the least convincing thing he'd said all morning. And he'd just claimed to have taken an interest in cooking.

He wracked his brain for words, _anything_ , that made sense in _any_ context. It was harder than you'd imagine. "... I was keeping my recipes here... under the bed. And I was going to look over them when you left." He briefly hoped that Holly would stop him from continuing. His sleep deprivation seemed to be making him talk even _more_. Also, he was finding that he had no control over the words. "And this was all... because of the surprise. That I'm cooking breakfast. So... _surprise._ "

Holly took in all of this information. She hid any visible reaction she might've had to this turn of events. Yet, the searching look in her eyes intensified all the same. "Oh... that's it, then. Just breakfast?"

"Yes, nothing special," he said through a yawn. "Just breakfast."

Artemis could've sworn that he saw Holly's face fall for a moment, like she had been expecting something else. But then she took a sharp breath, and the moment was gone.

"Right," said Holly, nodding brusquely. She hopped off the bed and crossed to the door. "Well, I'll just leave you to... look at your recipes, then." She smiled, then slipped out of the room, still in her pajamas.

Just before sleep finally took hold of him, Artemis noted that when Holly had smiled, the corners of her eyes had not crinkled like they usually did.

It was a bit like falling in slow motion - watching Holly walk out the door, knowing that something had gone wrong. He'd already made more fumbles with the proposal than he could've anticipated... but perhaps he could still iron out these minor hiccups, and then proceed as planned.

After he'd gotten some sleep, that is. It was becoming all too clear to him that a sleep-deprived Artemis was not a competent individual.

He sighed, out of both relief and weariness, and let his eyes close. A single thought occurred to him.

_I suppose I'll need to cook breakfast now._

_... Not your best idea, Fowl.  
_

And then sleep finally enveloped the genius.

* * *

Holly shut the bedroom door behind her, utterly perplexed by the morning's events. She leaned back against the door, wondering if she'd been getting ahead of herself. If she'd been too rash, like always. Maybe it was actually better if Artemis didn't propose yet. Still...

_All the jitters, the convoluted excuses, the extended vacations... for cooking?_ she thought. She felt more disgruntled than she was willing to admit, like one of Artemis's own Persian rugs had been pulled out from under her - which would've been quite a feat, considering the weight of most Persian rugs.

She sighed, walking down the hall to the guest room.

"I suppose the only ring in my future is an _onion_ ring."

At least the Captain's sense of humor was still as sharp as ever.

* * *

It could not be said that leisure was natural for Butler. The bodyguard was used to constantly being on the lookout for suspicious activity, tensed, his Sig Sauer ready to go. But this was an unassuming Saturday morning, and as far as Butler knew, Artemis was not currently engaged in any illegal activity. So the bodyguard had allowed himself a small moment of relaxation.

He was dicing some fresh tomatoes in the kitchen, U2 playing on his iPod. And yet, he somehow heard with incredible clarity the soft _click_ of Artemis's bedroom shutting, followed by lithe but heavy footsteps down the hallway.

Always a soldier, Butler removed his earbuds and stalked out to the manor's main foyer. From the kitchen doorway, he caught the tail-end of a pajama'd Holly Short trudging into the guest room and closing the door behind her.

It was surprising enough that Holly was up and about at this hour, but what Butler found oddest was that she had woken up before Artemis. In fact, Artemis had not left his room at _all_ that morning. Very unusual.

Butler really considered going up to his principal's room and checking on him, but then he stopped himself. Artemis was obviously up to something; he'd been terribly jittery the day before, and his asking Holly to stay above-ground an extra day was certainly not insignificant.

Still, Butler knew that it would be best to leave Artemis alone until he emerged from his room naturally. Either his charge was still asleep - which was highly improbable - or he was so deep into his scheme, he couldn't spare even a moment to come get his morning coffee.

... or, it would seem, spend time with his girlfriend.

Butler narrowed his eyes at Artemis's bedroom door. If only he'd had a pair of Foaly's X-ray goggles on him.

_What are you planning in there, Artemis?_ he thought. Fighting the urge to go find out, he replaced his earbuds and went back to his tomatoes.

If only the bodyguard had known that Artemis was sprawled out in his bed, snoring like there was no tomorrow. He would've gotten quite a chuckle out of that.

 


	4. Cooking?

Holly shut the guest room door behind her. She turned away from the door to see Juliet, in a pant suit, sleeping on the guest bed. Or rather, she _had_ been sleeping.

Juliet blinked a few times, her eyes readjusting to the light as she sat upright on the bed. "Oh, hey Holly! Ah, sorry I kind of stole your bed."

"No, don't worry about it." Of course Holly couldn't really be mad. It had been a long time since she'd actually slept in the guest room while visiting.

_Long enough, you'd think,_ she thought.

Juliet rolled her eyes, exasperated. "It's those twins. As soon as they wake up, they always come and find me, wanting to start on their science project or tell me about their crazy dream... which is fine, except you never know when those two are gonna wake up at four in the morning."

Holly laughed. It was easy for her to imagine Myles and Beckett doing something like that. Just like their older brother had been, they were quite determined 12-year-olds. It was just as well that _their_ determination hadn't also manifested in the kidnapping of fairies.

_It's crazy how long ago that was... So much has changed._ As Juliet rambled on, a dozen memories sparked up from the depths of Holly's mind: of gold and goblins, orange plasma and dwarf polish. Things she hadn't thought of in years.

"... and now the twins are off somewhere doing _God_ knows what. I wouldn't normally sleep in the guest room, but the twins never think to look for me here, and I noticed that you... eh, weren't using it much."

"Oh... right." This other small realization, spotlighted by Juliet, hit Holly like a ton of bricks.

_Yes, a_ lot _has changed. Wow._

As Holly marveled over this, Juliet grabbed her pillow and stood up from the bed. "I'll just get out of your hair then."

This pulled Holly back to the conversation at hand. "Oh no, you can stay if you want to. Artemis is... busy, so I was just going to hang around in the meantime."

"Well, okay, if you're sure." Juliet plopped back down on the bed. "So what is the criminal mastermind up to today? Building an opera house, colonizing a planet, or hacking into Foaly's diaries?"

"All very close, but not quite. Try _cooking_."

"Cooking?" Juliet pulled a face that was disgusted, intrigued, and a little frightened. "I've never even seen Artemis _touch_ a frying pan, much less prepare a meal."

"Tell me about it." Holly frowned. Now that she thought about it, where _had_ this interest in cooking even come from?

Juliet fingered the end of her messy braid. "Well, you know how people get when they stay up all night," she shrugged. "It gives them all kinds of _revelations_ and just plain _weird_ ideas."

Holly nodded, then actually considered what her friend had said. "Wait. What?"

"Oh, just some people pull an all-nighter and suddenly think they've _found_ themselves. It's all very _psychedelic_ , but if you ask me they're all just smoking some really funky-"

"No, Juliet, I mean the part about Artemis being up all night."

" _Oh_ , that makes more sense." She grinned sheepishly. "Well, this morning, Beckett woke me up around five. He told me all about how he and Myles had found Artemis sneaking around the manor in the middle of the night. How they'd helped him come up with some big plan."

Holly was bewildered. Artemis hadn't just gotten poor sleep, he'd gotten _no_ sleep. He'd been traipsing around the manor all night, doing Frond knows what with the twins. _Meal planning?_

And another thing.

_I_ knew _I wasn't kicking him last night,_ she thought, confused, but also a bit smug that she'd been right in that respect.

_This doesn't add up. It's just... well, I know him better than anyone. So what would he need to lie to me for?_

"Did Beckett say what they were planning?"

"No, he said it was top-secret," replied Juliet, unaware of how complicated the situation actually was, but glad to share what she knew. "I guess Artemis hadn't even wanted anyone involved at first, but when the boys found him, it was clear that he _needed_ help on this one."

Holly nodded. Artemis _did_ have a habit of getting into sticky situations with his plans. She'd accepted that. She had _also_ accepted that she was usually the one who had to get him out of said situations. So why had he not mentioned anything about cooking to her before this morning?

_It was a "surprise." That's what he said._

But this struck Holly as completely _odd_. It was very unlike Artemis to plan "surprises," cooking related or not... unless it was the type of surprise that she would not like. In which case he usually waited until it was too late for her to refuse.

_Oh, d'arvit. And here I thought he might be proposing. Way to miss_ that _one, Short._

Juliet noticed the furrowing of Holly's brow, and how the corners of her mouth had turned down. She tried to backpedal a bit. "Hey, don't get upset with Artemis _just_ yet. I don't know if all that is even true. I mean, Beckett has been known to think his dreams actually happened. He could've just been a little confused this morning."

But Holly had a feeling that it had been no dream. It definitely explained why Artemis was acting so strange, not to mention sleep-deprived. Yet, she wondered why he had gone to all this trouble to hide _cooking_ from her.

And it wasn't as if he'd never stayed up late before. Holly was fine with him doing that, but why had he gone through so much trouble to hide it from her?

_For Frond's sake, I was nocturnal when I started in Recon. I can understand being a night owl._

Perhaps, she wondered gloomily, this was all an elaborate cover story, and he had only asked her to stay an extra day so he could receive magical assistance with some dastardly plan.

... _Or,_ he actually was going to attempt cooking. In which case, things had just become _far_ more dangerous.

"It's just... I thought... he seemed so fidgety yesterday," Holly finished lamely.

"Yeah, I could've sworn that he was planning on propo-" Juliet stopped herself, realizing that that was probably not the right thing to say. Holly, to her credit, did a serviceable job of only slightly wincing.

Juliet paused, not sure how to help. She had never been the best at understanding the Fowls - that was usually Holly's area of expertise. But perhaps some of her investigative skills could still be of use; after all, she _was_ a trained Butler.

Juliet jumped to her feet, a new look of determination on her features. "Okay, I'd better go check on the boys - make sure they don't set anything on fire, email any international crime lords, the usual - but after that, I'll see if I can find out anything. If the boys won't spill, Butler generally knows what's going on in Artemis's head."

Juliet squeezed Holly on the shoulder and then dashed out of the room. No doubt she was ready to take on the world, now that she'd had some extra sleep.

_Maybe some extra sleep will do the same for Artemis_ , she thought. _Or maybe he's not even sleeping. Frond, for all I know he's out of the country by now. Or in the kitchen._

She decided to worry about changing out of her pajamas later. For now, she sank into an elf-sized chair, furnished specifically for her short stature. She let her face drop into her hands, and pressed the pads of her fingers into her eye sockets. Relieving stress.

She sighed. _What are you up to, Mud Boy?_

This was by far the strangest visit she'd ever had at Fowl Manor - and that _does_ include the time she was kidnapped and locked in the basement against her will.

* * *

Myles and Beckett had been two very tired little boys this morning, and yet they had still been capable of making a task as simple as painting a wooden box a fire hazard. With yet another twin-related disaster averted, Juliet bounded into the kitchen to find Butler, the hem of her jacket only slightly crisped. The boys had offered her no additional information, so her next best option was to pick her older brother's brain about it all.

The manservant had now moved onto making omelets, crepes, and other assorted breakfast foods. He stirred and flipped the contents of the various skillets with practiced dexterity, not burning any food on the large stove.

Juliet glided over to the stove and pulled out one of Butler's earbuds. "'Morning, Dom."

Butler had of course anticipated her approach, due to his sharp soldier's sense. He'd also smelled her burnt jacket from down the hall. "It's only 8 o'clock, and you're already putting out fires?"

Juliet blew a stray hair out of her face. "You call it that, I call it 'babysitting.' After staying up so late you'd think the twins would be too tired to participate in flammable activities, but what can I say? I underestimated them."

"Yes, underestimating a Fowl usually ends with _something_ going up in flames," he said, flipping a pancake.

"And speaking of the Fowl men," she swiftly changed the subject, "I heard that our boy Artemis was up all night with his little brothers."

"Really?" Butler frowned, pouring some almond milk in with a forming crepe. "And here I thought I'd instilled in him the importance of a good night's sleep."

"Has he mentioned any top-secret plans lately?"

"Not to me, no."

"Anything about cooking?"

Butler raised an eyebrow. "This _is_ Artemis we're talking about? Didn't I ever teach you not to believe everything that twelve-year-old boys tell you?" In Butler's experience, that often lead to kidnapping magical creatures, time-travel, and very aggressive crickets.

" _That's_ not from the twins." Juliet stuck her chin out for emphasis. "That came straight from the horse's mouth... or rather, the horse's mouth's girlfriend."

"Holly?"

"Yep."

Butler frowned. He had heard nothing of this plan. "Is there any crime involved in any of this?" He liked to keep Artemis on the straight and narrow. As much as that was possible for a Fowl, at least.

"No idea." Juliet dipped her finger into the pan, prattling on as she licked off the cluster of dough. "Myles and Beckett were _so_ eager to tell me that they'd been planning all night, but God forbid they actually tell me _what_ they were planning. Myles said that Artemis was _doomed_ , but Beckett found the whole thing hilarious. I mean, what kind of a hint is that?"

This information did not clear up the situation for Butler. In fact, it left him more confused; Artemis's plans were not generally doomed, and were very rarely hilarious (at least not intentionally). The whole situation was starting to feel like a convoluted riddle.

"Whatever's going on," and here Juliet's voice became hushed, "it's turned Artemis into a bumbling oaf. I don't think Holly knows what to make of it all."

"Artemis _has_ been acting rather strange this week," said Butler, stirring his concoction. In fact, when he'd asked his charge why Holly was staying an extra day, he had become a flustered mess - very uncharacteristic of him. "Holly staying an extra day, him being a nervous wreck, the sneaking around... it's almost like he's planning on..."

"Proposing?" finished Juliet, smirking.

Butler let out a disbelieving breath. "Wow."

"It's not _that_ surprising, Dom." Juliet patted his shoulder. "Artemis isn't twelve anymore. _Sometimes_ , non-twelve-year-olds get married."

Butler gave a small laugh. "I'm more surprised he's worked up the courage to ask in the first place. At _any_ age." But then his brow furrowed. "Wow, awake one hour and he's already driving Holly crazy? That might be a new record."

"At least he hasn't done anything _else_ yet," she chided. "In fact, he's probably still asleep." Juliet's expression grew thoughtful. "Or he's looking at cooking recipes. This whole morning has been _very_ strange."

"That sounds like an Artemis plan," said Butler, preparing himself to go solve a variety of problems. So much for a relaxing Saturday. "I think I'd better go check on our sleeping beauty. Have you got breakfast under control?"

Juliet plucked the spatula from Butler's hand and shouldered him out of the way. "Well, if I mess it up, it is _definitely_ Chef Artemis's job to fix it!"

Butler stepped out of the kitchen smiling, as Juliet started very liberally adding spices, flavors, and more to her cooking pan.

* * *

"Artemis, wake up."

Now, before you get the wrong impression of Artemis _or_ Butler, it should be noted that Butler no longer functioned as Artemis's butler in a personal sense. He still performed duties around the manor, kept Artemis protected during business ventures, and was a loyal friend. But his days of being Artemis's personal assistant were long gone - the boy was in his twenties now, for goodness sake.

... Having said that, Butler still allowed himself to occasionally intervene in Artemis's personal matters, on a case-by-case basis.

Again, the boy was in his _twenties_ , for goodness sake.

And so Butler stood in Artemis's room, prodding his charge in the back to wake him from his deep sleep. "Come on, there's no sleeping on the job. And I don't think you can afford to take any more breaks on this one."

Artemis all but resembled a slug as he rolled over to look at Butler. His blood-shot eyes cracked open. "Wha..?"

Butler kneeled down. He pulled Artemis upright by the shoulders, and tried to get him to focus on _something_.

"Artemis, what is the square root of nineteen thousand, eight hundred seven?"

The math seemed to propel him towards coherency. His eyes drew open as he ran the imaginary numbers in front of him. "One hundred forty and..." he stopped momentarily to yawn, "... eighty four hundredths. Approximately." The extra hour of sleep _had_ made a difference.

"Good. What is the capital of Czechoslovakia?"

"Prague."

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"That is obviously a trick question, as your fingers are all currently occupied with holding my shoulders in a death grip."

"Right. And when are you planning on proposing to Holly?"

"Today."

Artemis eyes widened at his own involuntary answer. He was certainly awake now. The flushed color seeping through his normally pale-as-a-bed-sheet face was a peculiar sight, if sympathetic. "I, eh... forgot to tell you earlier." His eyes widened as he remembered the _mess_ that had been the previous night. "Preparations were quite... chaotic."

"So I heard," said Butler, releasing his grip on Artemis.

Artemis sighed. "I apologize that I didn't share my plans with you sooner. Truthfully, I hadn't planned to tell anyone, really. But you know how, well, _perceptive_ the twins can be." Then his brow furrowed. "Wait. You heard?"

Butler shrugged, which was communicative enough.

"Juliet," they said simultaneously.

Artemis's face fell into his hands. He rubbed his eyes to distract himself. The action was quite similar to the one Holly had made an hour earlier. "Of course. I should've expected them to run and tell Juliet about their creative contributions." Although he _was_ surprised by how quickly they had managed to spread their story - and how lucid they were after staying up so late, for that matter. He'd be damned if his age, not to mention a dozen inter-dimensional road trips and fatalities, weren't catching up with him.

"Has Holly found out about the plan?" Although the morning was a hazy blur for Artemis, it would've been difficult to forget the downcast look in Holly's eyes when he'd explained his "cooking plans." If she found out he'd been fibbing before he had a chance to pop the question, as it were, the results could be catastrophic.

"She's still in the dark... more or less. Although I wouldn't put it past her to get frustrated and try to crawl _out_ of the dark soon enough. Now, what exactly _is_ this plan, Artemis?"

"It's a long story." Artemis lifted his head from his hands and stood up. Butler was surprised to see an exhausted but nonetheless trademark vampire smile. "It's a somewhat convoluted plan, but I believe it to be of the highest quality." The man then tried to make a joke. The aftereffects of exhaustion, you know. "Maybe I should start doing all of my planning at four in the morning."

If Butler had not been a respectable bodyguard (read: well-paid), he would have face-palmed. Instead, he shoved down this impulse and stared very calmly at his principle. "True as that may be, for goodness sake, Artemis: what made you think it was a good idea to do all of your planning _the night before the proposal_?"

"There's no time for questions like that, old friend."

"But _cooking_ , Artemis?"

The smirk disappeared from Artemis's face, and Butler could've sworn he saw his eye twitch in imperceptible frustration. Seeing this was almost as fulfilling as face-palming would've been.

"I forgot to mention one thing, Butler... It looks like I'm going to need some emergency cooking lessons."

Butler could breath a sigh of relief at this. "That's one thing we won't have to worry about. I've cooked up quite a breakfast this morning."

"I'm afraid that won't work." Artemis pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. "You'll need to throw it all out, and make something much more basic. It's not ideal, but be honest: do you think anyone would believe that _I_ successfully cooked a crepe?"

Butler could not argue with that.

"While this cooking business was a rather clumsy improvisation of mine, it actually fits well enough with my original plan." Artemis stooped down and retrieved his proposal notebook from under the bed. He flipped through it, then carefully extracted a single page. "Integrate the first step into breakfast, and then we'll be back on schedule," he said, handing the bodyguard his instructions.

Butler scanned the page. He paused. "Lollipops?"

"Trust me, old friend." There was both confidence and self-doubt in his tone. "I have my reasons."

Butler nodded, snorting all the same. "If you say so."

"I have arguably not been doing my best work this morning," said Artemis, running a hand through his hair. "But now that I've gotten some rest, my mental facilities _should_ return to their normal level of functionality. Yes, my conversation with Holly has not exactly set me up for success, but that's nothing that my ability to 'plan on the fly' cannot fix."

Although there was no question mark at the end of his sentence, Butler could sense that his charge was needing some affirmation of this. "It's saved my rear numerous times."

"It's difficult to admit this, Butler." Artemis looked up at the man; for all his wealth, intellect, and status, he looked strikingly like a scared little boy. "I'm not just going to need assistance, or my brain, or even magic. For this complex of a venture, I'm going to need"- his lip curled at what he was about to say -"some plain old luck."

And for a moment, Butler's brow softened, and he lay a hand on the shoulder of the man he'd practically raised - after so many near-death experiences, Butler could hardly believe he was alive to see him become a married man. And that Artemis was _alive_ to become a married man.

Also, that Artemis had managed to find a girl who liked him enough _to_ marry him.

"Well, it's a good thing you're Irish."

* * *

"You know, Beck, now that I think about it, I don't think Artemis ever actually _okay'd_ this portion of the plan."

"You've got to trust me, Myles. He _needs_ this for his plan to succeed."

"That is certainly debatable. However, I'm never one to pass up the opportunity to create some, ah, experimental art."

Myles and Beckett stepped back to admire their finished box, torches still in hand.

* * *

Butler strode into the kitchen. He found Juliet flipping pancakes with her eyes closed. To be fair, she _was_ doing it very well.

"Okay," he said, all business, "here are your instructions from Artemis. Throw all of this out, and start from scratch. You can cook anything you want. The only requirement is that it can't be very good."

Juliet raised an eyebrow. "Well _there's_ something you don't hear everyday."

"It has to look like Artemis cooked it."

" _Oh_. Now it all makes sense."

"And you have to incorporate lollipops in there somewhere."

"... Okay, remind me to start checking Artemis's bed every night, to make sure he's in it. He _cannot_ be staying up this late anymore. It's bad for his brain."

"I agree with you there."


	5. The Convolution Grows (An Elf Should Not Have to Solve So Many Riddles Before Breakfast)

Holly bucked up by doing some one-armed push-ups, then slipped out of the guest room in her pajamas; she carried a folded LEP suit under her arm. She had considered dressing up a bit for the day, because she had _thought_ it was a special occasion; maybe a nice shirt and pants - _not_ a skirt, though. However, if Artemis was not even going to leave his room for the day - or get out of bed... whatever it was he was doing in there - then she certainly wasn't going to make an extra effort either.

She sighed. _I shouldn't be mad at him. This cooking breakfast... he_ is _trying to do something nice for me. In his own way. Which is terribly unlike him._

Then she frowned, her brows screwing up. _But cooking? That is_ really _unlike him. He doesn't... he couldn't have Atlantis Complex again, could he?_

_What would he have to be guilty about?_

... _he better not have anything to be guilty about._

This discouraging internal dialogue continued, as she trudged down the seemingly never-ending hallway. The manor windows stretched up to meet the vaulted ceilings. Sun seeped in through the glass; it cast light over the grand staircase, but left Holly in shadow as she traveled under the window sills.

As she passed the stairs, she paused, craning her neck to scan the foyer. But Artemis was nowhere to be found, so she reluctantly kept walking.

Soon enough she reached her destination: the guest bathroom - and although it was to the manor what a linen closet would be to a condominium, that description would not have done justice to the sheer size of the room. It was occupied by various sinks, showers, and bathtubs, not to mention a mini-fridge. It turned out that the Fowls' interior decorator knew a surprising amount about hospitality.

Relaxation came over Holly's face; a hot shower would do her some good. She was about to push open the door, when two little boys shuffling down the hallway caught her attention.

Myles and Beckett were still in their plaid pajamas, which were a bit singed on the sleeves and hems - it had been an eventful morning, to say the least. Their hair was ruffled and their eyes looked wide, almost unblinking, with both exhaustion and hyperactivity.

Myles looked positively spooked upon seeing Holly. "Good morning, Captain."

It was imperative that they kept Holly in the dark - Myles knew that much. They'd already made the mistake of letting slip a few details to Juliet, caught up in giddy exhaustion as they were. No doubt she'd already ran and told half the manor... which unfortunately could include Holly. So Myles had now tasked himself with finding out what the intuitive elf knew. _And_ throwing her off their trail, if necessary.

"How, ah, peculiar that we're all meeting here... in our pajamas," he said. "Very coincidental, wouldn't you say so?"

Holly raised an eyebrow. "Uh, right."

Myles tried to test the waters. "So... Beckett and I are... looking for Juliet. I don't suppose you've seen her this morning? Or spoken about anything in particular when you've seen her?" Myles paled, silently berating himself. That was _not_ the smoothest transition he could've used. He decided to blame his clumsiness on a crippling lack of sleep.

... Also, Holly was very pretty, and she made him nervous. He _was_ a chip off the old block, after all.

"I have," replied Holly. "In fact, she told me you two were awake all night with Artemis."

Myles pursed his lips, looking altogether too similar to his older brother. "Hmm... I don't believe I know what you're talking about."

"How do you not remember, Myles?" said Beckett, blissfully earnest. He was quite an anomaly in the Fowl family, in that he had an instinctual aversion to lying. "It was only a few hours ago, after all." He smacked his brother on the shoulder. "I _told_ you Jules couldn't keep that to herself," he added in a mutter.

" _Me_?" Myles glared back at him, grasping his now-abused arm. " _You're_ the one who told her in the first place, simpletoon!"

"Well... you should've stopped me, simpletoon!"

"Okay, calm down," said Holly, exasperated. Although both boys were a good two feet taller than her, they all but shrunk when faced with her commanding presence. "I just hoped that you two could tell me _why_ you all were planning in the middle of the night."

_And why Artemis didn't just tell me._

Myles regained his overwhelming diplomatic facial expression. "We discussed many things with Artemis - all of which I cannot divulge to you, Captain, as we are sworn to secrecy."

"Of course." Holly almost face-palmed. Artemis had clearly trained the twins too well to spill any secrets to her. Although, apparently it was fine if they told everyone _except_ Holly what they were up to. Fowl Manor normally was a second home to Holly, but this morning it was as if she was completely isolated. Out of the loop.

But if being a LEP Captain had taught her one thing, it was how to get information out of uncooperative parties.

" _Myles_ ," she said, putting on her best impression of Lilli Frond - it was not a very good impression, but it was coy enough for her current purposes. "Since you two were up all night with him, you must know what's planning. Couldn't you give me just a _tiny_ hint?"

Myles gulped. "I'm afraid not." So far, her tactics were working well enough.

"You couldn't even tell me what he's planning on cooking for breakfast?"

Myles froze. Although he possessed Artemis's intellect and stiff demeanor, he did not possess his ability to think on his feet. Needless to say, a sentence that contained both the words "Artemis" and "cooking" was sufficient to, well, knock the wind out of his _brain_ , as it were. "That is... a good question..." he stammered.

And so Beckett was forced to step in, proving that although he was not the most intelligent Fowl, he was indisputably the savviest to these more pedestrian issues.

"I believe that Arty is cooking _grande_ tacos, among other _delicious_ foods. Isn't that right, Myles?" Beckett winked entirely too noticeably at his brother. He was particularly proud of this excuse; he _had_ discussed his taco idea at length with Artemis, so the excuse could not be considered a lie. Therefore, his conscience was in the clear.

Myles looked stupefied, reeling over how he'd lost control of this situation so quickly. Artemis would not be pleased with this small addition to the plan. But then again, if Artemis was improvising so radically - _cooking_ , of all things - then he and Beckett would have to do what they had to do.

"Yes, _exactly_ so, Beck," Myles casually patted his brother on the back, in a way that was very un-casual. "Speaking of which... we really must get back to helping Artemis with the... breakfast. And the, ah, tacos. Nice seeing you, Captain."

Myles grabbed his brother by the sleeve, dragging him down the hallway. Holly caught muttered words such as _simpletoon_ , _the box_ , and _wikihow_ as they passed her.

Holly was alone once again. She leaned back against the bathroom door, staring into space. Her brow could not have been more furrowed. There were only two questions occupying her mind.

_What's gotten into you, Artemis?_

She heaved open the door with a grunt, and then shut it behind her.

_And_ what _is a taco?_

* * *

Artemis stood at the foot of his bed, adjusting his cuff links. For most people, an extra hour of sleep would not have done them much good. But if Artemis had proven one thing in his life, it was that he was not like most people. One hour had been more than enough time for him to regain his normal level of competency. After combining this newfound sharpness with a hair comb and a fresh suit, the man was "back in business."

He hoped, at least.

After looking back on the previous night with fresh eyes, Artemis was feeling quite perturbed. And he didn't even want to _think_ about this morning...

_I've managed to_ foul _this one up after all,_ he thought.

But he knew that it would do him no good to berate himself forever. Mishaps aside, he could always rely on his intellect to get things back on track. And he still had a solid proposal planned. Going off of what Butler had said, the biggest problem was obviously going to be appeasing Holly's confusion and frustration - a tricky feat, but not altogether insurmountable. After all, she'd forgiven him in the past for offenses that were much worse than sleeping in. Or reading recipes.

_Goodness, why_ _did I even bring cooking into any of this?_ he thought, shuddering. _Holly must think that I'm playing_ kick-ball _with her emotions. Or that I'm schizophrenic._

_... I'll cross that bridge when I get to it._

Artemis paced the length of the Persian rug, waiting for a particular call that he knew was coming. As if on cue, his smart phone's screen brightened up. He accepted the video call and found himself face to face with a partially-eaten carrot. Or rather, a carrot that was currently _being_ eaten.

"I had a feeling you'd be calling," said Artemis

"Nice to see you, too, Mud Boy," said Foaly, chomping away on his meal.

Artemis snorted. "I'd refrain from calling a 24-year-old a 'mud boy,' if I were you."

"Aw, how come Holly still gets to call you that, but I can't?" the centaur teased.

"A variety of reasons. Chief among them that I've never been able to stop Holly from doing most anything."

"I've missed that cranky personality of yours," said Foaly, but there was no venom in his words. He tapped a few off-screen buttons in front of him. Within seconds, he'd pulled up the page he'd been looking for. "You know, I was quite intrigued by an email I got this morning."

Artemis examined his nails. "I hope you have a point, Foaly. I'm a busy man."

"Of course." Foaly rolled his eyes. "The email was from you, in fact, and it contained some fairly specific requests. Care to explain?"

"Not really."

"Well, the Council doesn't usually just _loan out_ high-profile citizens without a good reason."

"And I'm sure you'll give them one," deadpanned Artemis.

Now, Foaly was a smart centaur. Holly was staying an extra day, Artemis was sending out cryptic emails - it wasn't difficult to connect the dots. However, he was still being asked to deal with LEP business - not to mention those insufferable Council members - on his own time. So teasing Artemis was merely a service fee.

"Oh, come on, Arty,"said Foaly, waving around his carrot. "Not even a hint? I don't think Holly would've extended her visa for just _anything_. And now you just _happen_ to need some very specific, very sentimental items... hmm, I wonder what that could be about?"

Artemis rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks heat up all the same. He silently cursed how his face had become such an open book. Practically shouting it from the rooftops every time he had a change in mood.

"Is that Artemis Fowl _blushing_?" Foaly leaned back in his chair, amused. "I don't think I've _ever_ seen that much color in your face. Or any color, really."

If Artemis had not been on a tight schedule, he would've disconnected the call. "Mhm, that's been happening more and more lately. Aging, you know."

"Yes, Holly's really having an effect on you, isn't she?" smirked Foaly. "And I wonder what she would tell me if I asked about her visit?"

Artemis grimaced. "Oh, I'm sure she'd say something about cooking. Possibly throw something, as well."

"... I'm not even going to ask."

Artemis inhaled sharply, giving his head a shake. "It's fine. Nothing I can't fix." He added in a mutter, "Perhaps there's a WikiHow for a situation like this, as well."

"What was that?" asked Foaly.

"Oh, nothing."

If they'd been in the same room, Foaly would've given him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Proposing isn't easy, yeah?"

"I never said I was proposing."

"Well, I can't put this request through without a reason..."

Artemis sighed, face still very red. He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair. "Okay, fine. If I do not deny these... _accusations_ , will my package be here when I need it?"

Foaly winked. "Your wish is my command." Before he'd disconnected the call, he heard Foaly calling to someone off screen. Actually, a large group of someones, by the sound of it.

"I was right! Diggums, you owe me five bucks!" And then a chorus of cheers.

_Wonderful,_ thought Artemis. _Perhaps I should alert the Haven newspaper while I'm at it._

Yes, his situation looked grim. Unexpected complications, clumsy improvisations, and a very perplexed girlfriend were at the center of the mess. But, Artemis reasoned, he now had a small village of a family - not to mention a legitimate village of fairies - on his side, working with him to execute the plan.

Besides, all of this was nothing that a big, decisively mediocre breakfast could not fix.

In that moment, Artemis seriously considered face-palming. But he did not.

He needed to go take credit for _cooking_ said breakfast.

* * *

One hot shower later, Holly slipped out of the bathroom. She was still wearing her pajamas - she'd had every plan to change them, truly. But her LEP suit was quite stiff, and her pajamas had looked _so_ much more comfortable... and since she'd still seen nothing of Artemis all morning, she reasoned that she'd have time to change later anyway.

_And they don't smell too bad_ , she lied to herself.

Besides, she needed comfortable clothing at the moment. Although the shower had relaxed her muscles, it had done nothing to relieve her stress that was Mud Boy-related.

_I know they were up all night_ , she thought. _But the twins seemed like they'd heard nothing about cooking before then. Well, Beckett seemed to know_ exactly _what was going on... but you never know with him._

She sighed. _I guess I'll find out eventually._

Her fingers tensed up in frustration; they stayed curled around the doorknob even after she'd pulled the door shut. She didn't _want_ to find out eventually. She felt completely displaced, like Artemis didn't even want her there. Well, he certainly didn't want her involved in his big _plan_ , at any rate.

Oh, if only Captain Short had known.

_But still,_ she thought, _it's not as if_ _I wasn't invited. He_ asked _me to stay an extra day... for what? Why?_

Holly would've continued this agonizing train of thought, had she not turned away from the door and collided with the man of the hour himself.

_Speak of the devil,_ she thought as they tumbled to the ground.

_Ah, how fitting._

They hit the carpet with a dull _oomph_. She straightened her arms, propping herself up to look at Artemis. He looked almost scared, pinned beneath her. And yet, it was Holly who felt the most trapped. She found herself tripping, falling into his intensely blue eyes. Even though he was underneath her, he had somehow trapped her in the palm of his hand - against her will, as usual.

_Damn that Mud Boy_ , she thought, paralyzed.

Suddenly she wanted to forget about her anger and doubts, and simply kiss him. Neither man nor elf dared to breath, not sure what the other would do - or even what they themselves would do.

But just as quickly as the moment had come, it had passed. And studying the infuriatingly complicated man beneath her, Holly remembered her frustration.

"So you were able to get away from the kitchen?" she smirked.

Artemis tried not to wince. "Yes. You could say that."

Holly almost felt bad for him, and how uncomfortable he looked. Almost. But looking into his eyes, she noticed something that hardened her resolve again.

"I see your eyes aren't bloodshot anymore. You finally got some sleep, did you?"

"It's a rather long story-"

"Well, you'd better start then." Holly scrambled off of Artemis. She sat back, reaching out a hand to him. "Before you have to get back to your cooking. Or before you drop dead from exhaustion." She pulled him up to sit across from her. "And I'm not running hot, so if you pass out, you're on your own."

They were as tiny as specks, sitting in the expanse of the hallway. Artemis took a deep breath. He was prepared to do a _lot_ of explaining... without revealing his plans. Also, a lot of groveling.

"I'm sure you're feeling confused by this morning's events."

"Understatement of the year, Mud Boy."

For some reason, Artemis did not find the term of endearment so comforting this time.

"That's... understandable. You've spoken to Juliet, correct?"

"Yes, and it's a good thing I did," said Holly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Otherwise, I never would've known about your midnight scheming with Myles and Beckett." The stare she fixed on him was hard, but there was unmistakable concern beneath it, hiding in its shadow. "I don't ask for much. I just want you to _talk_ to me, Arty. What's going on?"

He ran his hand over his face. "I've been working on a very... _very_ complicated plan. Soon enough I can share the details with you, but not right now."

Holly raised an eyebrow. "So you trusted Myles and Beckett with _details_ , but you couldn't trust me."

"It's not a matter of trust. It's necessity."

Her eyebrow arched even further. "And I'm less necessary than two twelve year old boys?"

"Don't discount the capabilities of a twelve-year-old," he replied. " _Especially_ not a Fowl. We can be quite competent."

"Yes, that's the word I'd use," laughed Holly. "It's a shame they lose that competency as they get older, don't you think?"

"If only there were a cure," mused Artemis.

They sat in silence, listening to the dull whirring of the air. Suddenly, Holly remembered the question that had been itching at her for the past half-hour.

"Arty, what is a taco?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"A taco. Myles and Beckett said you're planning on making them for breakfast."

"... of course."

_You've got_ _to be kidding me_ , thought Artemis. He briefly contemplated what he'd ever done to make his brothers hate him _this_ much... but then he realized that Holly was still waiting for an explanation.

"It's a Mexican dish. It consists of cheese and various vegetables in a shell. Very... festive. It's something you'd like." His mouth tightened as he tried to hide his obvious distaste for the "festive" dish. "Or rather, you _will_ like it. When you, ah, try them at breakfast."

"Right." The inquisitive expression did not leave Holly's face. She took a sharp breath.

"I'm worried about you, Arty," she said. "You drive me d'arvitting _crazy_ sometimes, but in spite of it all, I... can't do without you." She met his eyes, suddenly flushed at her own sentimentality. "This cooking business... well, I'm having trouble believing it's not some diabolical plot _disguised_ as cooking. Is something going on? Are you in trouble? I mean, more than the usual amount."

Artemis's jaw tensed as he answered her. "I'm simply trying to improve myself a bit. Everyone needs hobbies, Captain."

"Sounds like _Orion_ is trying to improve you," she said, winking. Then she narrowed her eyes at him. Her mouth seemed unable to decide if it wanted to smile or frown. "You know, if you're lying, I'm going to be quite disappointed. I've come to expect a bit more plausibility from you."

"Oh, it's not a lie."

_At least, not anymore._

He paused, unsure of _what_ could satisfy Holly for the moment. He thought about it, then hesitantly reached out and took one of her hands in his own. "Just stay for breakfast. After that, you can leave. You can fly away and never come back, if that's what you'd prefer." The desperation in his eyes contradicted his nonchalant tone. "But just stay for a little while longer. Please, trust me, Holly."

Holly looked at him for a long time, looking _into_ him. After what could've been an eternity, she finally rolled her eyes. "Well, you've given me plenty reason _not_ to in the past... but fine. I'll be there." She carefully extracted her hand from his. "Now _don't_ make me regret it." She stood up, grabbing her suit off the floor.

She lingered, and much to Artemis's surprise, gave him the smallest of smiles. And in that moment, her smile - with that familiar crinkling in the corners of her eyes - was the best possible thing to relieve his stress.

Now, all of this was good and sweet and promising... the moment that followed, however, more or less canceled out these good things. As lovely as it would be to leave out this next blunder in Artemis's proposal, it would simply be erroneous storytelling to do so.

And so, unfortunately, just as Artemis noticed Holly's radiant smile... he also noticed her outfit. Needless to say, it was not going to be one of his best moments.

"Ehm, Holly... is _that_ what you're wearing today?" Though the poor man had made leaps and bounds towards goodness throughout his life, the concept of basic sensitivity was still quite foreign to him. So _very_ foreign.

She arched an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

"It's just... ah..." stammered Artemis. He could not very well ask if she was going to, well, dress up a little more for the proposal. Considering that that would give away the fact that there _was_ a proposal. "I just wondered."

She snorted. "I assume you've got a problem with it, then?"

"That's not what I said," he said, avoiding her gaze. "Those pajamas certainly have... eh, character."

_I'm not saying she needs to wear a ball gown_ , he thought. _That would be entirely off-putting. But pajamas? Honestly, Captain._

"Character! You trust me to save your hide all the time, but not to dress myself. _Or_ to be involved in your plan." She put her hands on her hips and mock-pouted. "I am a trustworthy, grown woman, you know."

Artemis could not resist speaking. He tended to resort to hairsplitting when he'd talked himself into a precarious position. "Trustworthy, yes. But someone who's three feet tall can hardly be called _grown_."

Holly laughed in spite of herself. "Honestly, Artemis, sometimes I think you _want_ me to smack you!" But she suppressed the urge to actually do so. Barely.

"If I let you smack me, will you go change before breakfast?" he pressed. He didn't mean to be so anal (although Holly would assure you that no, he definitely _did_ mean to). But if she wore pajamas, that would completely put a damper on going outdoors. A vital part of his plan would be ruined. After so many misdirected improvisations and additions, he could not let anything else in the plan go awry, no matter how... _feisty_ Holly was feeling.

Her brow furrowed at his urgency. "Why is what I wear so important all of the sudden?"

He looked at her tensely, and she could almost see the gears churning in his head. She sighed; she would save him the trouble of coming up with yet another thin excuse.

"Ah, right. The plan. That I can't know anything about." She held her hands up in exasperation. "Well, I _was_ planning on changing, but then I figured it wasn't worth it. You've been so busy with your precious plan, I didn't even know if I'd _see_ you at breakfast."

"You obviously would have seen me at breakfast, if I was the cook," Artemis pointed out, against his better judgment.

Holly gave him a sharp look. "Well, at any rate, you seemed completely scatterbrained," she huffed. "I didn't want to bother you by asking."

Artemis ran a hand through his hair - he was sinking fast, couldn't think of anything to say that would deescalate the situation. And so he spoke without thinking.

By this point, he really should've known better.

"I don't think you would've needed to ask in order to predict my opinion of your pajamas."

Holly recoiled as if slapped. Artemis's mouth went dry. He definitely had _not_ meant to say that. He'd been so preoccupied with trying to hold the plan together at any cost. It had simply slipped out and sliced through her, like a train door across her trigger finger.

Unfortunately, his slip of the tongue had now angered the elf who was unarguably the most important player in the plan. Her jaw set. "I'll see you at breakfast," she forced out. This time, Artemis let her walk right past him. Better if he kept any other _brilliant_ quips to himself.

As Holly hastened down the hall, a stiff, folded LEP suit in hand, a thought struck her. "You know, maybe I won't change after all," she said over her shoulder. "Who knows? Anything else I pick could be even _more_ disgusting than my pajamas. Wouldn't want to risk that, would we?"

She slipped back into the guest room, slamming the door behind her for what was surprisingly the first time that morning.

* * *

Butler and Juliet were doing a purposely terrible job of cracking eggs in a bowl, when they heard the slamming of a door echo through the Manor. They eyed each other.

"Holly?" said Butler.

"Oh yeah," said Juliet.

"That can't be good."

"Nope."

"I wonder what he did this time."

Juliet dropped an egg on the floor. "Probably something snobby."

* * *

Artemis sat on the floor, alone once more.

He sighed deeply. Really, when he evaluated the situation, he'd been doing much better than he'd anticipated... up until that last part, at least.

He rubbed his eyes; perhaps that extra hour of sleep hadn't helped him as much as he'd thought. And when she'd mentioned the tacos, and was smiling, and the corners of her eyes had crinkled... that had been the moment he'd nearly broke, nearly told her about the proposal. But he knew that would've been a mistake. He would _not_ be doing any proposing to an agitated Holly.

Also, to not go through with his plan and propose early would be - he shuddered - _failure_. And although the past 24 hours told a different story, Artemis still knew in his heart of hearts that he was no failure - he scoffed at the thought.

At any rate, he needed to get back in her good graces as soon as possible. Before he started asking any life-changing questions, certainly.

In spite of all of this, the corner of Artemis's mouth turned up in a smile. He was reminded of _why_ he was going through all of this trouble to plan a proposal. _Why_ he was proposing to Holly. Why he wanted the proposal to be perfect, even after all of his errors.

It was because the best of times _without_ her paled in comparison to even the worst of times _with_ her. He needed someone who was his better half. Someone who challenged him to be better than his mistakes. Someone who made him _want_ to be good. He needed Holly.

... Holly. Whose clothes he had just insulted. Of course.

_Good God, I need some more time to fix this_ , he thought.

_Don't worry, you've got all of breakfast_ , said an annoying voice in the back of his head.

_Oh, shut up,_ he mentally said back to it.

He took a deep, calming breath, then pulled a walkie-talkie out of his pocket. He pressed the _TRANSMIT_ button and spoke into it.

"Butler, I'm afraid you'll need to add one more item to the breakfast menu."


	6. Cooking and Clothing and Gold

At precisely 9:45am, Artemis handed various papers to his accomplices in the dining hall.

The twins had finally exchanged their pajamas for crisp shirts and khakis. Juliet's pantsuit looked both ruffled _and_ a little crisped. Even Butler was sporting a plain button-up shirt with... were those rolled-up sleeves?

_How can they all be so casual at a time like this?_ thought Artemis. _Do they not realize what's at stake?_

Then again, perhaps he needed to start focusing on something other than criticizing his loved ones' clothes.

"I thought it would be good for us to touch base before we enter phase two of the proceedings," he looked pointedly at Myles and Beckett, "due to the _liberties_ that certain parties have been taking."

" _Liberties_?" scoffed Myles. "You're the one who complicated everything with cooking!"

"It's my plan. If anyone's allowed to make improvisations, it's me." Artemis glared at Myles to hide his growing misgivings about said improvisations.

Beckett held up a contrary finger. "To be fair, this all seemed pretty complicated even before cooking became involved."

"Very true, Beck." Myles slung an arm over his brother's shoulder, countering Artemis. "What did you expect us to do? After all the holes _you'd_ left in your alibi, we had no choice but to mollify Holly."

Artemis's nose wrinkled. He did not appreciate having his two younger brothers pointing out his flaws; after all, he had Holly for that. "You two have unfortunately not had as much practice as I have with _mollifying_ Holly," he drawled, "and your excuse only intensified her confusion."

Before the twins could offer a rebuttal, Artemis turned his focus to Butler. "Please tell me you were able to adjust the breakfast menu accordingly."

Butler and Juliet glanced at each other from the corners of their eyes. They'd had to take a few "liberties" of their own while making breakfast. For accuracy's sake, of course.

"If that's what you'd like to call it," said Juliet, avoiding Artemis's gaze.

"We definitely kept everything consistent," Butler added diplomatically.

"Good, good." Artemis fiddled with a button on his suit, apparently too preoccupied to really absorb their responses. "As you all know, breakfast will be served at ten, sharp. The pages I've given to each of you include your instructions for this morning. I trust that you will memorize your duties, and then destroy the paper copies however you see fit."

"Destroying paper... now that's something I can do," said Beckett with a sudden vampire smile. It was the first time in his life he'd ever _truly_ looked like a Fowl.

Myles surveyed the page of instructions he held. "This doesn't seem like a complete plan."

"That's because it's not," said Artemis. "I've purposely only given each of you the instructions that are pertinent to your role. It's how I always operate."

"Because..?" asked Myles.

"Well, the proposal wouldn't really be a _surprise_ if you all knew what was coming beforehand, would it?" Artemis smirked. "I _do_ value my privacy."

Butler raised an eyebrow. "Myles makes a good point, though. Are you sure you need to keep everything so secret?" Butler was becoming just a bit concerned about Artemis's plan, to tell the truth. A genius Artemis might've been, but he was not exactly a romantic. "This isn't exactly like retrieving the C Cube from the Spiro Needle."

"Ah, yes," said Artemis, completely serious. "This is even more difficult."

Butler nodded. "Fair enough."

Juliet rolled her eyes; she hated meetings. They were usually a waste of time... therefore, the Fowls _always_ had them. "So are we good to go, Arty? I need to get back to the food soon. You know, make sure everything's slightly burnt."

"Yes, that's all we need to go over for now." Artemis looked at her skeptically, but eventually nodded in approval. "And I suppose it being slightly burnt is a nice touch. But _only_ slightly burnt."

"Ah... sure. Right." And Juliet scurried away from their huddle. The twins quickly followed her, but Butler lingered. For some reason, he felt like he should not leave his charge's side just yet. Nor did he think that his charge would voluntarily be traveling to the kitchen anytime soon.

"Butler... ah, how about I stay? And straighten the dining hall with you. Or rather, oversee the straightening process."

Butler laughed. "Sure, Artemis."

* * *

Juliet was scurrying back to the kitchen when Myles and Beckett stepped in front of her.

"Jules, we need to talk to you," said Myles.

"About the plan," Beckett clarified loudly, which got him a panicked " _Shhh!_ "from his brother.

Juliet paused, contemplating their imploring faces. She sighed. "Alright, but make it quick, I do have a lot to take care of. If this breakfast isn't a huge success - or, rather, a moderate success is what he wants, I guess - Artemis might have me _banished_."

"That's not a problem," said Myles, "because it has to do with our brother's plan anyway."

Beckett beamed. "We've got an idea to make the proposal even _better_. But we need your help to pull it off."

The three of them huddled together. The twins described their brilliant idea in hushed tones. It's a good thing Artemis did not hear any of this; he might've experienced heart palpitations, which would've put a real damper on the proposal.

"Well, then?" said Beckett. "What do you think?" After a long moment, Juliet finally gave them her answer.

"Okay," she grinned. "I'm in."

* * *

Artemis checked his watch. To his immense annoyance, the numbers _9:58am_ glared back at him.

_She should be here by now_ , he thought. A grim notion flared at the edge of his mind. _Perhaps she's flown away after all._

But then his nose wrinkled. _Or she's trying to make a point. What a lot of good that will do her... it's_ her _food that will get cold._

_... I fear that when all is said and done, breakfast will have gone from "mediocre" to "barely edible."_

He checked his watch again. _9:59am._

There was not a lot of straightening to be done in the dining hall. It was spotless as usual, and Artemis had only requested a few special arrangements. The pristine white tablecloth had been replaced with basil green place-mats, and the dishes and cutlery were an immaculate gold. Sunlight poured in through the arching windows; it made the gold surfaces shimmer and spark like a fairy's magic.

"Earth tones and gold," murmured Artemis, with both overconfidence and doubt. _The People like both of those things... It's completely effective. Hopefully._

He stood fiddling with his trouser leg as Butler adjusted this, tidied that. This sudden lack of usefulness made Artemis feel horribly displaced - but the only alternative would've been to attempt some of the cleaning himself. So he came to terms with the feeling rather quickly.

However, there was another feeling. A peculiar sensation surging through him and taking hold. Much to his vexation, this feeling made it very difficult to concentrate on plotting _or_ self-doubt. Was it fear? No... it was a bit more pleasant, in a strange way. But at the same time, it was still certifiably _unpleasant_.

"Ah, Butler..." Artemis's eyes focused on an arbitrary spot on the wall.

Butler looked up from the rug he was straightening. "Yes, Artemis?"

"I'm experiencing... what is this, a premonition of some kind?" He panicked, drumming his fingers against his legs. "It's very abnormal... like a distinct buzzing, a _tingling_... and it's right in my hands, of all things. It's so... disconcerting." His digits stretched and grasped at his pants' fabric without rhyme or reason.

Butler looked at him, absolutely puzzled. Then realization dawned. "You've got butterflies in your stomach?"

"They're not in my stomach, they're in my fingers." Artemis frowned. "Why on earth would there be butterflies in my stomach?"

Butler shrugged. "That's just how the expression goes."

"Well, these _butterflies_ ," Artemis shuddered, "are terribly distracting."

Butler eyed his charge. "You getting nervous?" he asked, scooting chairs into place around the table.

"Of course not."

It should be noted - for accuracy's sake - that Artemis was very clearly nervous as he said this.

"Right." Instead of scooting in the last chair, Butler pulled it towards Artemis. "Come on, have a seat."

Reluctantly, Artemis obeyed. "I'm not nervous, as I just told you. I am completely calm." His fidgeting hands persisted.

Butler kneeled down so that he could look him in the eye. "That's good," he said. "You have no reason to be nervous, after all."

"Of course." Artemis hesitated before he spoke again, as if the words took a great deal of strength to form. "Do you... well, she will say yes. Of course." He pursed his lips. "Don't you... eh, agree?"

Butler put a hand on his principal's shoulder. "You've got good betting odds, Artemis." He chuckled. "Holly's what, now? Ninety years old? She must be feeling ready to settle down, finally. With a nice, back-from-the-dead 24-year-old, of course."

"Wow," deadpanned Artemis. "Hilarious, Butler. I hadn't realized you'd become such comedian."

Butler smirked. "Aging, you know."

Artemis looked particularly crotchety as he re-straightened his suit jacket. "Unfortunately, I _do_ know."

They both stood up. Butler put the chair back into place, then turned to Artemis. "Look at it this way," he said, gesturing around the elegant dining hall. "The hardest part - the preparation - is over."

"That statement sounds awfully premature," grumbled Artemis. "Something tells me the hardest part has yet to come. Add in everything that's happened with Holly... I'm surprised the Manor hasn't collapsed yet."

"You said you'd make breakfast, and we're about to have breakfast," Butler pointed out. "Holly will either believe that you made it, _or_ she'll decide that maybe it doesn't really matter. Either way, you two will move past it. You'll have nothing else to worry about."

"... it's funny you should put it like that..."

Butler stared back at him. "Funny, Artemis?"

"Well, you see... I may have, ah, said something about her clothing... that _may_ have been perceived as negative. In a way."

"Oh, Artemis."

"A number of things, actually."

Butler's face fell into his hands. "Artemis..."

"It's not as bad as it sounds," lied Artemis. He paused. "Okay, that _may_ be inaccurate. But if you'd been there... honestly, Butler, the past hour has been like riding a flaming _unicycle_. And I'm not one to throw that expression around."

"I can imagine."

Artemis tried to take a deep breath, but it came out far too huffy to be effective. "Holly is quite a perplexing individual."

"At least you're finding this out before you propose," said Butler.

"Oh, I've known that for a long time." Artemis smiled, suddenly calm. He glanced at Butler. "I wouldn't be marrying her if she wasn't."

"I'm glad your confidence is back."

Artemis adjusted his cuff-links smugly. "It was inevitable, old friend."

"And just in time, too." Butler smirked, heading back to the kitchen. "That's her coming down the hallway."

Artemis's eyes snapped to the archway on the other side of the room. " _What_?"

* * *

Holly was not a vindictive elf.

Frond knows that Artemis was far from being a perfect person. Anyone who was going to be in a long-term relationship with him needed to be the forgiving type. And luckily for him, Holly was exactly that type.

This give and take made the two of them a perfect fit. Of course Artemis benefited greatly from Holly's good influence - but she was not getting the short end of the stick in any way. What she arguably loved most about him was his attempts at righting his wrongs, at doing better. She'd never seen someone who had to work so hard to fix his mistakes. To become a better person. And more than that, _he always rose to the challenge_. He tried to be good in spite of his many faults, in spite of who he would be otherwise. She found this more admirable than anything. As long as he tried, she was willing to meet him halfway. And forgive him.

... that is not to say that she always forgave him _quickly_. And that is why she stomped into the dining hall at 10:16am - sixteen minutes late, of course. And she was wearing her wrinkled, smelly pajamas.

_Frond, he's got a lot of nerve,_ she thought. _He needs to learn how to treat a guest. Fancy bathroom or not._

She eyed a Fowl family portrait on the room's far wall. They were dressed to the nines, imperial expressions on their faces. This made her push her pajama'd shoulders back in defiance. She'd be damned if she let anyone look down their nose on her because of what she was wearing.

But then Holly actually took in the sight of dining hall. The glimmer of gold caught her eye, and she began to have second thoughts.

_... D'arvit_ , she thought. _This is... fancy. Very fancy. I mean, I wasn't expecting... well, solid gold._ Holly felt both pleased and annoyed about this new twist. Was this Artemis's attempt at an apology? Or just another bizarre layer of his bizarre plan? The more she puzzled over it all - cooking and clothing and gold - the bigger her headache grew.

Her gaze shifted to Artemis, who was walking towards her. He did not seem like he was in a hurry to meet her, and his expression was unreadable. To Holly, his relaxed stroll made him look like he didn't have a care in the world this morning.

Oh, if only Captain Short had known. But, as it always is with these situations, she did not.

_Gets a couple of golden forks, and he thinks that fixes everything,_ thought Holly. _He'll have to try harder than that._ She rolled her eyes, withdrawing once again into her defensive pajama shell. Metaphorically-speaking, that is.

The two finally met below the tall archway. The sculpted white columns framed the dysfunctional couple in a startling picturesque way. The night before, Beckett had even suggested they hang a mistletoe there. It was an admirable idea... although it unfortunately ignored the fact that it was currently April.

When it became clear to Artemis that Holly was not going to speak first, he tested his luck. "You're finally hungry, then."

Holly crossed her arms, glaring up at Artemis. "Breakfast was supposed to be 'nothing special'."

"Relatively speaking," he replied.

"What do you call this, then?"

"... A surprise," Artemis offered.

Holly snorted. "Yes, you're nothing if not full of surprises."

They stared tentatively at each other. Here were two people who always knew exactly what the other was going to say; they could practically read each others' minds. They'd _been apart_ of each other before. But today, they could not figure the other out - even to save their lives. In this respect, it was lucky that this particular tale was not conventionally life-threatening.

"I'm not sorry for being late," Holly blurted out.

As quickly as she'd spoken, a tense, calculating look came over Artemis's face. Planning, adjusting, compensating. "I assumed as much."

"It's harder above ground." She fiddled with her sleeve. "To keep track of time, I mean."

"Well, I'm sure the residual effects of traveling through time and space don't help matters."

A milder couple would've felt uncomfortable straying from these trivialities. However, _this_ particular couple spent most of their time pushing buttons. Which they proceeded to do.

"Your food will have gotten cold," Artemis pointed out. Passive-aggressiveness was, more often than not, his weapon of choice.

"It's not the end of the world, Artemis," she shrugged. "It's one meal, then I'll be out of your hair for the rest of the day. Like you said."

Something that looked awfully similar to panic furrowed his brow. He manually replaced it with an icy calmness. "Be that as it may," he said, "I _am_ trying to keep us on a schedule."

"What _for_?"

He pursed his lips. "I'm a busy man." It was the best excuse he could offer.

Holly ran her hands over her face in frustration. "You know something, Mud Boy? All I've heard this morning is _your_ plan and what _you_ need to do. For Frond's sake, you sound as selfish as the day I first met you!"

"I see," he replied. His voice was quieter than normal, like the wind had been knocked out of him.

"I'm jumping through all these hoops for you," Holly continued, "but have you considered, even once, if this whole plan has been something Iwanted?"

Artemis didn't look at her. "This is _for_ you, Captain."

Holly faltered. "Well... that doesn't mean I've had a say in the matter." Sometimes Artemis could be the most scathing person she knew. She almost preferred that. When he didn't fight back, it was like the wall she'd been pushing against had just disappeared.

"Well, I guess we'll find out if it's what you want, won't we?" he replied simply. "Soon enough."

They stood in silence again, eyeing each other. Artemis resisted the urge to check his watch. He _was_ on a schedule, after all. As much as he would've liked to stay here and fix things, then perhaps simply look at Holly for much longer than necessary... he had a proposal to orchestrate.

Unfortunately, to avoid looking at his watch, his eyes happened to focus on Holly's fuzzy green troll slippers instead. A grimace, possible subconscious, came onto his face. The expression was not lost on Holly.

"If there's a dress code for breakfast at Fowl Manor, then no one told me about it," she muttered.

Artemis fought his instinct, which was to gulp. "It's fine," he said.

"Artemis, stop lying to me."

"I'm not," he protested. "Those are... endearing."

"Wow." In spite of herself, she laughed sardonically. "Did Artemis Fowl just indirectly compliment something that's colorful and fuzzy?"

"Yes. I hope you'll manage to forget it." He took a most definitely _un-calculated_ risk at this time. All of the available evidence told him that it was a terrible idea... but that was only theoretically. Sometimes, you just had to trust that your gut knew better than your intellect.

He came closer to her, reaching out a hand and enveloping her own. "Perhaps you could forget a lot of the things I've said this morning."

Holly was not sure why (and neither was Artemis, really), but she let him take her hand without protest. "Maybe," she said. "But not the cooking. I _am_ starving, you know."

She did not find his idea placating in the least. And yet, she found herself letting it slide this time. Maybe it was the good energy flowing from the golden cutlery. Maybe it was the patronizingly blue eyes she was being forced to look into. But for some incomprehensible reason, her anger was just... evaporating. Artemis had that effect on her much too often.

She grabbed the end of his tie, pulling his face down to hers. The moment seemed to suspend them in a state of pure magic. Their lips were a single second from meeting, when...

"Arty, dear, good morning!

"Holly! Good to see you've decided to stay an extra day."

They snapped out of their trance. The man and the elf immediately took several steps back from each other. Holly crossed her arms. Artemis ran a hand through his hair, heaving a great sigh. Of _all_ the people who could've walked down the hall at that particular moment...

"Hello, Mother," said Artemis. "Hello, Father."


	7. Under the Table

Of all the people who could've walked down the hall at that particular moment, it had to be Mr. and Mrs. Fowl.

You might be wondering why Artemis Senior did not have a coronary upon seeing Holly Short. While Artemis Junior had been taking a brief vacation (in his grave, as it were), Holly had taken to visiting the manor far more often than LEP regulations should've allowed. More than ever before, Artemis's absence had drawn Holly to the magical energy emanating from the estate. She'd taken to spending a great amount of time with Artemis's family and the Butlers; they were some of the few people who had shared her feelings of unimaginable loss.

At first, the Council had objected to all of these personal visits. They had quickly realized, however, that there was no point in trying to dissuade the "crazy girly captain" from doing _anything_.

The existence of the People had not shocked Artemis Senior as much as one might've expected. Foaly had theorized that this was perhaps related to the time Holly had magically healed him in the Arctic. Indeed, the man had been more curious than anything. Like father, like son.

In fact, Holly and Artemis Senior had taken a liking to each other over time. Of course, they would always have their differences. Holly had not always respected his parenting style - which was varied, and sometimes absent altogether. Artemis Senior did not appreciate her more life-threatening qualities, especially when his son was involved. But the one thing they had in common?

They both loved Artemis Fowl II to the moon and back.

They'd bonded over sharing their memories of the Irish teen. The memories ranged from fantastical to every-day, but they all included brilliant plans and witty banter. Holly had not been surprised to learn that Artemis had always been snarky, even as a toddler. When he'd learned of the time his son, held at gun-point, had given a melodramatic speech about the meaning behind his name, Artemis Senior had rolled his eyes.

Much like her love for Artemis, Holly had come to greatly respect the strides his father had made towards morality - which was largely due to Angeline's good influence, of course. Artemis Senior had found himself charmed with this magical woman who had been Artemis's closest friend and partner in crime.

Not to mention, they both liked their eggs over-hard. The most direct route to an unlikely friendship.

And that is why, on this bizarre Saturday morning, Holly and Artemis Senior were able to sit at the kitchen table, discussing the economic boom going on in Haven. Angeline dipped into that conversation when prompted, but spent most of her time eyeing her eldest son. The twins were conspicuously absent from the table. Artemis sat across from the two women; his eyes darted back and forth between the kitchen doors, his wristwatch, and Holly.

"While I'll admit that this professional pixie bowling does sound quite viable," said Artemis Senior, purposely changing the subject, "enough about that. What do you and Arty have planned for the day?"

Holly's eyes went to Artemis. "Ehm, just breakfast, I believe." She silently willed him to contradict her, but his eyes stayed fixed on the door.

"Hm." Artemis Senior tried to hide his frown. "That's a bit more... well, _normal_ than I've come to expect from you two."

"We like to switch things up now and then," said Artemis.

Holly raised an eyebrow. " _And_ after all the cooking he's done this morning, Arty is probably too exhausted to handle any more adventures."

Mr. and Mrs. Fowl's jaws both fell open. Artemis's full attention was captured now. Holly took a sip of her tea.

"Cooking?" said Angeline, puzzled. "Artemis... cooking?"

Artemis pursed his lips, aggravated. "Yes, Mother."

"Cooking _breakfast_ , too," mused her husband. "Of all things..."

"It's not _entirely_ inconceivable," said Artemis, trying to stifle his skyrocketing pulse. "I'm a man of many talents." He scowled at Holly, who smirked back at him.

Angeline took notice of this silent exchange. "That's fine, dear," she said. "I just wasn't aware that cooking was one of them."

Artemis Senior frowned. "That's quite unlike you, Arty," he said, worried that his son was about to ruin a perfectly good romantic weekend with ambition. Or... well, _thinking_. He certainly did not want Artemis to start making his father's mistakes. " _But_ , seeing as how Holly came _all_ this way," he winked at his son, "I'm sure cooking wasn't _so_ taxing, right?"

Artemis ran a hand over his face, fighting so much exhaustion. "Oh, you'd be surprised, Father."

"Arty, dear, if you were the chef," interjected Angeline, "then why aren't you serving?"

"Serving?" stammered Artemis, dumbfounded by this suggestion. "What am I, Mother, a _barbarian_?"

Holly snorted so loudly that tea came out of her nose, wet splotches seeping into her pajamas. "Oh yes, civil service is barbaric," said Holly. "What would you call kidnapping, theft, and extortion, then?"

"And that'll be Butler and Juliet with the food," said Artemis.

In the years to come, Holly would swear that when Artemis jumped out of his seat and made a bee-line for the kitchen doors, it was the fastest she'd ever seen him run in a non-apocalyptic situation.

* * *

Artemis had not had anything specific in mind when he'd asked Butler to take care of breakfast; truth be told, even if he _had_ had a vision, he would not have been able to articulate it in cooking terms. All he'd wanted was something simple and, more importantly, unassuming. A meal that went with his cover story of being a recent born-again chef, as it were, but was not as flashy as what a seasoned Butler might cook.

As Artemis hurriedly came to meet Butler and Juliet, he thought that his expectations of edibility were relatively appropriate. So when he saw the contents of the rolling breakfast trolley, it was all he could do to hold back a heinous screech.

It looked like he had cooked it, alright.

The trolley was overflowing with pancakes, first of all. But these were not fluffy, perfectly symmetrical, Butler pancakes. Their coloring ranged from singed black to a paste-like cream; very few were golden-brown. Some were drowned in butter, while others were so burnt that they had shrunken to a crispy miniature size. For heaven's sake, they weren't even all _circular_.

The omelets had fared even worse - and Artemis had not thought that was possible. They were all grossly misshapen, deformities of nature. Vegetables spewed clumsily from every orifice, and there was _no_ order to the distribution of egg white and egg yolk.

Varied and exotic side dishes were piled on, too, wherever there was room. Crumpled biscuits, and hash browns that alternated between being overly-stringy and far too mushy. Croissants that looked suspiciously like they had been dropped on the floor - _and_ like they had come out of a Pillsbury container. Not to mention the smell - the _smell_ , good lord. It assaulted Artemis's nose, like a zoo animal whose droppings contained every contradictory food you could imagine.

Artemis was glad his back was towards the table; he would not have wanted his family to see the pulsing vein above his temple. " _What_ is all this?" he whispered through gritted teeth.

"Breakfast," said Butler, shrugging. "You said you wanted 'basic'."

"I said basic." Artemis pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not _disfigured._ "

"Well, 'basic' implied that you needed to look like the chef," said Juliet, "which implied _this_." She gestured at the food, fully aware that she was not being helpful.

The three of them turned their attention back to the table. Their forced smiles were painfully wide. Mr. and Mrs. Fowl looked at them with concern. Holly raised an eyebrow.

Artemis mustered all of the bravura that he could. "Breakfast is served," he proclaimed, wanting to end his life.

* * *

To give credit to those who took part in this feast, they concealed their disgust quite well - they did not want to hurt poor Chef Artemis's feelings. Everyone pretended to not thoroughly inspect their food before consuming it. Gagging was kept to an absolute minimum. Ironically, the "chef" was the only one who had to briefly leave the table, to ah... _rid_ himself of an under-cooked egg in the bathroom.

"All better now," muttered Artemis, sitting back down at the table. Holly thought his already pale skin had taken on a slightly green tinge.

Angeline glanced around the room, like she was looking for an excuse to not eat anything else. "Where are Myles and Beckett?" she asked suddenly.

This time, it was Juliet whose face flushed. "Oh, they're busy with arts and crafts, I think," she said, laughing nervously. Butler looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

Angeline poked through a pile of pancakes, gingerly selecting what looked like the least burnt one. "Well, it's a... a shame that the boys will miss this... _wonderful_ food," she said, politely taking a small bite. The woman was made of steel; she cringed not once as she chewed.

"Arty, son," said Artemis Senior, "while I support your hobbies to a point - even the magical ones... perhaps you should focus on honing another skill for the time being?" He eyed his half-scrambled, half-boiled eggs in dismay - not an over-hard one in sight. "You have quite a talent in the sciences."

"No need to worry, Father," drawled Artemis, taking a drink of tea. "I am perfectly in control of my future."

Butler snorted at this.

"Well, yes, you've always been quite persuasive," admitted Artemis Senior. "Then again, sometimes life intervenes and you don't have time for _all_ of your hobbies anymore." He certainly did not mean for his next words to be as affecting as they were: "You find yourself giving up the things that just, well, _don't matter_. You'll understand soon enough, Arty, when you settle down and start a family."

Artemis started choking on his tea. His face turned bright red, as did Holly's.

"These tacos are actually very good, Arty," she said, reaching for her drink.

Artemis gasped for air. "Glad to hear it, Holly."

Yes, believe it or not, the one saving grace of the meal was the tacos. Butler had taken care of these himself. He had secretly decided that, with all of the culinary crimes Juliet was committing, at least one edible dish would be necessary. It was a stroke of luck that Butler happened to make _delicious_ tacos.

Artemis Senior opened his mouth to question the two of them. He quickly dropped the subject, though, when Angeline shot him a sharp look.

"Have a croissant, dear," she said diplomatically.

Artemis Senior hesitantly took it, wondering why everyone was behaving so strangely today. "Very well," he said, taking a bite. Suddenly his brows snapped together. He tore open the pastry and pulled out the hard, circular thing he'd bitten down on.

"Oh, it's a lollipop." Artemis Senior blinked.

_Of course it is_ , thought Artemis smugly. He had carefully orchestrated the placement of the lollipops. To have them simply strewn all about the trolley would've been far too conspicuous, if not heavy-handed. But hidden in the croissants? At least one diner was bound to try the pastries - out of politeness, hunger, or something of that nature. The discovery of the lollipops would then elicit the appropriate responses from everyone involved.

In theory.

Artemis Senior looked quizzically at his son. "Well, I suppose that's an interesting variation on the normal recipe."

But Artemis was hardly listening to his father; his eyes were fixed on Holly, who looked at the lollipop. He watched her for any small sign of recognition. A smile or a twinkle in her eye - anything at _all_. He held his breath.

All that Holly said was, "That's a new one." Then she went back to eating her taco.

At that moment, Artemis's world seemed to implode. What he had failed to take into account was Holly's varying notions of sentimentality - they were proving to be downright unpredictable. Thus, the first step of Artemis's plan had been rendered effectively null and void.

_A small oversight_ , he thought. _That's fine. I can still stay on track. I'll just need to be a bit more... blatant with my tactics._

And when it is said that his world imploded, it was his manners that self-destructed, more than anything.

"Eh, Holly." Artemis gestured to a dish near her. It was hidden by some gush that looked like it had been gravy in a previous life. "Perhaps you'd like to try those?"

Holly looked at Artemis, then turned her attention to the platter. Under the pan of mystery gravy, she saw the thin sandwiches. They had tiny slices of cucumber on them, and they were small enough to be fingers. Yes, this is leading where you might expect. Artemis's eyes stayed glued on her.

"Ah, no thanks, I don't like cucumbers," shrugged Holly.

But Artemis was prepared this time. "They're finger sandwiches," he said.

Holly stared at him. "So?"

Artemis blanched. That... that wasn't the answer she should've given.

"They're _finger sandwiches_ , Captain," he pressed. "Don't you remember that time in the Arctic? _Finger_ sandwiches."

Holly stared at him. "... Are you making a joke about how you got my finger cut off?"

Artemis's lip curled. "That was _hardly_ my fault."

"That was legitimately, _one-hundred percent_ your fault in every way, actually."

Artemis Senior tried to connect the dots in his mind; finding out about his son's radical adventures had been quite the learning curve, after all. "Now, was that the time you two rescued me? Or was that a different trip to Russia?" He was completely oblivious to the tension in the room. But then Angeline quietly kicked him under the table, and he decided he shouldn't ask anymore questions.

Silence overcame the table. Artemis and Holly scowled at their plates, not wanting to meet each other's eyes. They both wondered why the other was being so insufferably disagreeable.

_I'm eating this terrible food_ for _him_ , thought Holly, wondering why he was being such a closed book. _It's just like the old days. Only telling me_ part _of his plan_. _And it's not just Artemis - everyone has been so d'arvitting secretive today._

Meanwhile, Artemis thought, _I'm executing this terrible proposal_ for _her. True, she doesn't know that... but she could at least, I don't know, play along._

Artemis, so wrapped up in his disdain as he was, accidentally dropped his napkin. He watched helplessly as it fell to the ground. He sighed deeply, then reluctantly got down on his hands and knees to retrieve it.

Almost simultaneously, Angeline went to pick up another biscuit. As she put it on her plate, she made sure to accidentally knock Holly's fork off the table. "Oh, I'm so sorry about that, dear."

Holly narrowed her eyes; Angeline stared back at her, completely innocent. Holly _also_ sighed deeply. She was beginning to wonder who was reallythe bad egg in this family.

"It's fine," she said. "Let me get it." She slipped out of her seat, ducking under the green place mat that hung over the table's edge. Grabbing her fork, she came face to face with Artemis. He had crawled completely under the table, in search of his napkin.

The remaining occupants of the table twiddled their thumbs, trying to ignore that all of this was happening.

"Okay, _what_ is going on, Fowl?" said Holly, trying to keep her voice down. Not that that would do much good, considering they were under the table.

"Absolutely nothing is going on, Captain," replied Artemis, locating his napkin. Common sense says that he should've crawled away at that point, but something kept him there. Something petty, it turns out. "At least not anything that you'd notice."

"I beg your pardon?" Her jaw clenched. "If I'm not exactly following today, maybe it's because you won't tell me anything!"

His expression closed up. "I've been _trying_ to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"The lollipops," he said, exasperated.

Holly looked heavenward - or at least she tried to, but the table was in the way. "I'll say it again. _What_?"

" _Think_ , Holly. Don't you remember? During the siege. You punched me. And offered me a lollipop."

She blinked. "I _guess_ I remember that."

"And yet you had absolutely _no_ reaction to the lollipops," he said, as if this was a great offense.

Her face was completely scrunched up by now. "Why are you so focused on a time _when I punched you_?"

"It's supposed to be sentimental!" As Artemis raised his voice, he also accidentally smacked his head on the underside of the table. An earthquake seemed to occur as dishes, silverware, and food rattled around above them.

"Are you two, ehm, alright down there?" Artemis Senior's tentative voice floated down to Artemis and Holly. They quickly extracted themselves from under the table, crawling back into their seats.

"Yes, absolutely _nothing_ is going on," said Holly. Artemis glowered back at her.

"Would either of you like some gravy?" asked Angeline, who was much more tactful than her husband. "With the biscuits, it really doesn't taste too bad."

"I'm fine, thank you, Mother," muttered Artemis.

Holly looked at her fork. She wasn't going to be eating anymore with _that_ fork - then again, it couldn't have made the food much worse. "I think I'm about full, actually," she said.

"So you'll be leaving then?" Artemis's eyes bored into her.

Her face hardened a touch. "That's what we agreed on, isn't it?"

"I would've rather we agreed on you wearing something different." Artemis immediately wished he could stuff the words back into his mouth.

"Oh my _gods_ ," groaned Holly.

Artemis Senior looked back and forth between the two of them, like he was an audience member at a pro-wrestling match. "Wait a minute, Arty. Did you really ask Holly to stay an extra day... just for breakfast?"

"What a coincidence, I had the same question," said Holly.

"And that's all?"

"Gee, I wouldn't know." Holly glared at Artemis. "Why don't you ask Myles and Beckett?"

And at that moment, the twins picked the very worst time to walk into the dining hall.

"Good morning, everyone," said Myles. "Sorry we're a bit late."

Their khakis and shirts, which had been so crisp just an hour ago, were now covered in sawdust. The laces on Beckett's left shoe were singed black. Gold paint was smeared across Myles's pale, cherubic cheeks. Both boys had their sleeves rolled up, and their hair was swooping every which way.

Beckett nearly squealed in delight when he saw the table. "The tacos! Those were my idea!"

Myles made a hem-hawing sound, trying to cover Beckett's mouth. But Holly had already stood up.

"And that's my cue to leave," she said. She glanced at the torn open-croissant, at the lollipop inside of it. Her brow furrowed. Then she started towards the archway.

"Holly-" began Artemis, but she had already shimmered out of visibility. The last thing to go were her green troll slippers. Artemis could not be sure of where she'd run off to. She could've just gone up to the guest room to blow off some steam.

_Or out the door, never to return_ , he thought.

Beckett's lip fell into a pathetic pout. "I guess Holly didn't like the tacos after all."


	8. Less Tempestuous with a Teacup

Holly had not left the manor.

She'd strongly considered it, of course. Artemis's bizarre behavior was driving her absolutely crazy. And yet... when she'd been so puzzled and annoyed, she'd asked herself where she wanted to be. And, self-defeating or not, Artemis's study is where she had ended up. This is where she had run to.

In Artemis's large swivel chair, Holly's feet didn't even reach the ground. She gently spun from side to side, but her eyes stayed focused on the peculiar knickknacks strewn across his desktop.

"You know, for a pilot, you don't travel far."

Holly turned with a start and saw Butler standing in the doorway. She'd been so distracted, she hadn't even noticed him slip in.

"Well, you know Artemis," she sighed. "He knows how to keep you on a line. _Reel_ you back in. He's been doing it since he was twelve years old."

"Holly, I think you're describing Stockholm syndrome."

"Ha-ha," deadpanned Holly. She crossed her arms, but there was no real force beneath the defensive gesture. "He sent you, then?"

"No," said Butler. "I thought you might want someone to talk to. Someone who's thinking straight, anyway."

"How did you know I was here? I could've flown back to Haven, for all you knew."

"I had a hunch." Butler shrugged knowingly, walking to the desk. "Like you said, you two have been doing this for awhile."

"Already predictable," she muttered without knowing why. For some reason, she'd thought of the Spiro Needle heist - of a pillow catching a square of metal. Always anticipating each other, knowing each other _too_ well. But also knowing that the other would always be there, no matter what stood in their way.

Holly gave her head a shake. It seemed that Artemis's obscure reminiscing was rubbing off on her, after all. Nevertheless, a small smile crept onto her face.

However, the smile turned into a sharp frown as her eyes shifted back to the desktop. There were neat piles of items from their past adventures - not even the important things, just incidental items. She wouldn't have even been able to recall most of them, were they not sitting right in front of her.

"Jars of plasma, anti-rad gel," she said. "Why does he even keep this stuff?"

"Artemis likes to remember things," said Butler.

" _Everything_ is more like it."

Butler picked up a plasma jar. Stray sparks trailed around in its orange contents. The jar left condensation on his hand, even though it contained no water. He shuddered to think what the condensation _was_ composed of.

"It's the moments," he said, quickly setting the jar back down.

Holly arched an eyebrow. "Most of these were _terrible_ moments."

"But they helped shape both of you, didn't they?" Butler pointed out. "They mean a lot to him."

Holly wracked her brain, considering what all had happened at breakfast. Realization eventually dawned on her face; her cheeks colored with puzzlement. "... Is that what the lollipops were about?"

"Mhm."

"Oh," she faltered. After pausing, she shook her head defiantly. "Well, it's not that I don't remember things - I could tell you exactly what Artemis and I have been through. The experiences we've had together. But something tiny like that... well, he should've known I wouldn't just _remember_ it."

"Maybe. I bet you remember this one, though." Butler pointed to the C Cube.

"Of course," she admitted dryly. "How could I forget even _more_ severed digits?"

Now, take a moment to remember that Butler was Artemis's manservant. He had many important tasks to carry out in this proposal - including damage control when Artemis was too bruised to do it himself.

With his proposal instruction sheet, he'd been given quite a lot more information than anyone else. This was in the event that Artemis was, in one way or another, incapacitated and unable to complete the action. He had a description of the entire plan, save for the very last step (apparently, Artemis did not want Butler to take over _that_ portion of the proposal, regardless of the circumstances).

So here Butler was, ready to carry out his duties.

... However, it had _not_ been a good idea to write the contingency plan instructions on his hand. The mystery condensation from the jar had blurred Artemis's carefully crafted dialogue. In hindsight, Butler realized, he should've just not eaten the pages - really, why had that been necessary?

"That's not... the only thing... you... lost," Butler tried to read through the water, "was it?"

Holly's features clouded with confusion. "I suppose _you_ lost a few years off your life." She picked up the C Cube, contemplating it. It was a good thing she was so focused on the cube; otherwise, she would've been treated to Butler's best scowl. And _no one_ would want to see that.

"Artemis lost some friends," he said. "However briefly."

" _Oh_ ," she realized finally. "Well, yes. And, I guess... I did, too." She picked at the hem of her sleeve.

"You... mushed - eh, _missed_ him... a lot, didn't you?" Butler nearly cringed at the contrived dialogue. But he had to remain professional. Sink or swim, this was Artemis's plan.

Just as she turned to look at him, Butler placed his hands inconspicuously behind his back. She eyed him, then chuckled. "I'm sure that's how Artemis remembers it - what, did he pay you to say that?"

"Of course not." Butler smiled.

Holly rolled her eyes at him. She looked back at the cube, smiling over nothing in particular. "Who knows... I suppose I did."

Butler let out a sigh he hadn't known he'd been holding. _Well,_ that _went much better than it had any right to_ , he thought. Then again, that was generally how situations worked out for Artemis and Holly - minus a few tangles with death, of course.

Holly suddenly turned back to Butler. Her eyes narrowed, a searching glint taking over them. "Couldn't you just _tell_ me what Artemis's plan was?"

"You know I can't do that."

"You _could_ , but you're not going to," she prodded. "Honestly, Butler. Sometimes this family - that man..." She took a deep breath. "I know I should expect it, as a fairy who spends all of her time with humans, but... he just makes me feel so out-of-place sometimes. Like my involvement would ruin everything. But today, during breakfast - _before_ breakfast, even - if I would've just known what was going on, I wouldn't have slammed so many doors, or stormed out of any dining halls."

"You'd put money on that?" Butler's eyebrow quirked a fraction of an inch.

"Well... fine, maybe not. But things wouldn't have gone _as_ bad. And anyway, breakfast is over now." She leaned on the chair's arm rest imploringly. "What's the point of keeping the plan a secret if it's finished?"

"The plan's _not_ finished," Butler blurted out. He ran an hand over his face, exasperated at how two adults could behave like such _children_. He sighed, then looked back at her. "Just... give him a bit more time," he said very carefully, like he was trying to give her a hint without it _seeming_ like he was. "You know Artemis - he won't give up. He does his best work when faced with challenges. All that I'll say is... if you stick around, you might find that you like the rest of his plan much better."

"Wait," she said slowly. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Butler! When he asked me to stay... it wasn't just for breakfast?"

" _Oh_ , no," laughed Butler, in a rare fit of schadenfreude (at Artemis and Holly's expense, as it were). "I'm pretty sure that meal had _no_ place in his original plan."

"He has something else planned, then? That's _not_ cooking?" Holly's eyes widened. "Butler, is he planning on-"

Her very important question was cut short by a rustle of fabric and the door creaking open. Holly and Butler turned to see Artemis; he was not quite as silent as Butler when entering. The door frame made him look like he'd shrunken a bit since breakfast.

Holly swiveled the chair around to face him, her eyes still wide. She said nothing, only slightly raising an eyebrow. He took the cue.

"There was one last thing I..." he paused, taking a small bundle out of his pocket, "... cooked." He smiled weakly, which was always an unsettling expression to see on Artemis's face. He unwrapped the napkin, and in his hand there was a small stack of...

"Truffles," said Holly, laughing out of pure recognition.

Artemis's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. "You remember?"

"I do, actually." Holly hopped out of the chair and walked pensively to him. Normally, Holly didn't even _like_ chocolate, but something made her reach up, plucking a piece from the stack and tossing it in her mouth. Artemis looked at her. At the softening of her eyes, the relaxation of her forehead. This wasn't what he'd expected at all - but he was certainly grateful for it.

She swallowed, and her mouth curved into a smile. "Your cooking has improved since this morning. I wonder how?"

Artemis shrugged. "Well, I can't divulge _all_ of my secrets, Captain. I'm sure you'll be leaving soon," he ran a hand through his unusually ruffled hair, "but perhaps... would you care to go on a walk first?"

Holly pretended to think about it; Artemis knew exactly what she was doing.

"I suppose," she said finally - albeit very slowly. "Although... how about I change out of my pajamas first?" Before Artemis could turn even paler than normal, she winked at him. She walked past him, but paused before she was out the door. She took a few steps back, retrieved the entire bundle of truffles from Artemis's hand, and _then_ went on her way.

Butler was not sure _how_ this had worked out so well for Artemis. The situation had looked dire this morning, by all counts. Then again, Butler was not sure how Artemis's relationship with Holly had worked out so well _in general._ Perhaps they were two people to whom logic just couldn't be applied.

Instead of straightening out his suit jacket, Artemis stumbled to his desk. He collapsed in the chair; for once, he was not trying to hide his stress.

Butler raised an eyebrow. "Truffles... how?"

Artemis stared up at the ceiling, his eyes glazed over. "Tell Juliet to remind me: she is _well_ overdue for a raise."

* * *

Holly traveled down the staircase sometime later, wearing a fresh LEP suit. The acorn insignia on the breast pocket gleamed, and there was not a wrinkle in sight. It was her best suit; she usually only wore it for weddings, or for particularly tense tribunals with the Council. True, she could've chosen something a little less dressy... but now, knowing that the most important part of Artemis's plan was yet to come - more than that, there was a _good_ _reason_ she'd been kept in the dark all morning - nothing else had seemed quite special enough.

_Thank Frond that stuff about cooking wasn't true_ , she thought. She was surprised to find that the thought of him fabricating this whole cover story wasn't so infuriating anymore. That intense confusion she'd felt all morning had been replaced with a gnawing anticipation. She didn't know how much longer she could wait for him to cut to the chase - she almost hoped that he hadn't planned anything terribly extravagant or drawn-out.

... Then again, this was Artemis. She knew better than to hope for simplicity. So she acquiesced to the anxiousness that was burrowing deep in her stomach. And privately, she even enjoyed it.

Suddenly, Juliet came bounding around the corner. Seeing Holly's nervous smile, she slowed her run and smirked. There were breakfast crumbs and specks of paint scattered on her arms and legs, and an odd flower petal or two in her hair. "So you decided to stick around for awhile longer?"

"Mhm," said Holly, completely withholding.

Juliet's mouth curled into a knowing smile. "Figures." And she scurried away, down the hallway.

* * *

Artemis had a second chance.

The man was well aware that Holly gave him more of those than he deserved. He also knew that this second chance could not be attributed to anything _he'd_ done this morning. Indeed, if the present circumstances had been based solely on Artemis's actions... well, let's just say that Holly probably would've opted to have _all_ parties mind-wiped. Including herself. Better to have no one remember the whole ordeal.

Yes, Artemis would've been neck-deep in trouble - and Holly would've been completely gone - had it not been for his family and the Butlers. He was unsure how they'd done it, but he was finally at the home-stretch. His many helpers had carried him this far with their superior people skills; now, it was his job to complete the proposal. And he was determined to not foul it up.

To do so, he'd realized, there were some sacrifices to be made. It was for Holly, after all.

_As Butler would say_ , he thought, _sometimes you just have to roll up your sleeves and get the job done._

Juliet ran through the kitchen at that moment. She came to an abrupt stop when she saw Artemis.

"Finally gave cooking a try, did you?" she smirked, eyeing the two steaming cups of tea in front of him. Fear not - the aroma that wafted from the tops was not causing either of them to drop dead.

"Wow. So funny. You and Butler really must give stand-up a try."

"And why did you roll up your sleeves to brew _tea_?"

* * *

Holly found Artemis sitting at a picnic table on the manor's back porch.

The Dublin air wasn't tinged at all with moisture today, and the sun warmed Holly's face. She could see the bugs jumping from grass to tree. The breeze carried the scent of their pollen, which they were spreading to all of the budding plants. Holly took a breath, deeply satisfied. This beautiful weather was purely fate. Even Artemis couldn't orchestrate something like that.

She sat down across from Artemis. The energy sparking between them was palpable. There were two cups of tea on the table - cinnamon, and Earl Grey, by the smell of it. He handed one of the cups to Holly, which she hesitantly accepted.

"Did you make this?" she asked.

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Yes, 'ye of little faith. I'm quite good at brewing tea... when I want to be. I've been doing it since I was in cashmere diapers, believe it or not."

"For some reason, you being pretentious even as an infant isn't that hard to believe," she said, taking a sip.

"Oh my, you're so clever," deadpanned Artemis. He took a drink of his own tea, but make no mistake - he was actually watching her intently. Waiting to see her reaction.

Holly swallowed. Then, surprising _both_ of them, she grinned and took a second, bigger sip. However, her brow suddenly furrowed as she realized what this implied. "Wait, _you_ made this?"

"We just went over this, Captain."

"But it's, you know, actually good," she teased.

Artemis snorted. "You don't need to act so surprised."

"I am _terribly_ surprised. And with good reason, given the meal I just had."

At this, Artemis's cheeks did pinken.

"You know," said Holly, with mock-enthusiasm, "maybe you wouldn't be such a bad cook after all. If you actually tried it, of course. Next time, tell Butler and Juliet they can do a little bit better on your behalf."

Artemis looked at her. He wasn't unduly surprised that she'd figured it out, if he was being honest. Her perceptiveness had led to his personal downfall many times over the years.

"How'd you know?" he asked.

"I think my first clue was that you were spotless after cooking a full-on feast."

"That's not really evidence, Captain. I am _always_ spotless."

"Come on, Arty," she laughed. "Those tacos were _far_ too good for you to have touched them, and you know it."

"Now I'm hurt, Holly." Artemis put his hand to his heart in mock-offense. He paused, his eyes clouding with apprehension. "You're not... angry, then?"

After a moment, she said, "I'm not, actually." She watched as a fly landed on Artemis's shoulder. He immediately flinched, and started swatting frantically to get the creature off of him. It made her beam, which she hid by taking another sip. "When both you and your significant other have died before," she continued, tongue-in-cheek, "those other things... well, they don't matter as much, do they?" A new thought crossed her mind. "Your father _was_ right about that, then."

Once again, Artemis flushed against his will. "So he was," he said, setting down his cup.

This was not lost on Holly. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Well, Arty, I hope you've got more planned than breakfast and afternoon tea? You said you'd make this trip worth my time."

Artemis leaned forward, taking her hands in his own. There was both sincerity and a challenge in his smile. A fire in his eyes - blue and white and black, that type of fire that burnt more brilliantly and efficiently than it had any right to.

"I have every intention of doing so," he said. Then he sat back, straightening a cuff-link, and he was all business again. "We'd better get started on our walk. I'm expecting a visitor."

" _Another_ guest? And here I was feeling so special."

* * *

A sidewalk wound down from the porch to a grassy garden area. There was a large pond and a leafy tree that towered above the area, casting Artemis and Holly in shade. She leaned out precariously over the pond's edge, simply because she knew it annoyed Artemis. He kept his hands in his pockets, worried that Holly would somehow notice his fingers twitching. Insects and birds zipped past them. Artemis did not appreciate the wild life or the _wilderness_ in any way, but as he watched the sun and shadow draw patterns on Holly's face, he decided that perhaps he did not mind standing there after all.

Holly's eyes shifted to him, and she chided him about the clumps of weeds that had sprung up since she'd last visited. Beneath her lightheartedness, Artemis could see the anticipation and impatience in her shoulders. Making her wait just a bit longer was quite fun for him.

Or, more accurately, he was shaking in his loafers, and the butterflies in his fingers/stomach had returned, and he needed just a bit more time and was _not ready_.

Not that he would ever admit to that.

After a few minutes, she gave him an arch smile. "Hate to break it to you, but I don't think your guest is coming, Arty," she teased.

"But you're enjoying the weather, I'm sure?" he asked in response.

Holly blinked. "Well, yes. I am, actually."

"The sun's awfully bright for April in Dublin, though," he pressed. "Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"... _Oh_ , no," she protested. "I don't care if you're a genius, Mud Boy, even _you_ can't control the weather."

"I never said _I_ could." A vampire-smile spread across Artemis's face.

"You know," Holly punched him lightly in the shoulder, "sometimes I wish that you would just _do_ things, instead of talking about them."

"If you insist." Artemis rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth tugged upwards into a small smile. He turned to a spot under the tree. "You can come out now."

And then one of their favorite demon warlocks shimmered into visibility.

"N°1!" said Holly. She ran to embrace the warlock.

N°1 wrapped his longer-than-average imp arms around her. "It's great to see you, Holly," he exclaimed. "Wonderful, glorious, and delightful!"

"How's the moon?" asked Artemis. True, he had a _lot_ on his mind this morning... but it wasn't everyday you got to talk to a permanent resident of the moon.

"Well, it's round," N°1 ticked off the words on his fingers as he spoke, "and if it weren't for my warlock magic, I would likely just bounce around all day, since there's not a lot of gravity." His eyebrows furrowed. "And don't believe what Foaly tells you, because it is _not_ made of cheese, and it certainly does _not_ taste like it. I created that new crater for nothing!"

Artemis nodded slowly. "I can imagine."

As N°1 looked at Artemis and Holly, he suddenly got a glint in his eye, like he'd thought of a _brilliant_ idea. Artemis saw this glint, and was sure that it would _not_ be a brilliant idea - he'd definitely not pre-approved it, at any rate. But he was not fast enough to stop the imp.

"Us all standing here together reminds me of the funniest memory." He winked entirely too obviously Artemis. "I was just about to transport you back in time, and you two were holding hands, and so I said, 'I now pronounce you man and elf.' Remember?"

Holly laughed. "Of course." She grinned, poking Artemis in the shoulder. "We were wearing only our underwear by that point, right?"

Artemis's face turned red. "Yes, with Foaly watching on a webcam and my dying mother in the bed," he muttered. "It'd be hard to forget."

N°1 was close to bursting with joy. "And now look at you two! Standing in front of me _again_. You know, I can't help but think my little joke is what caused it all." The imp gesticulated wildly. "And now I'm here _today,_ which is so exciting..."

Holly turned to Artemis, suspicion forming on her face. "Why's that?" she asked, her eyebrows raising.

"Did you have any trouble getting to the surface?" Artemis asked abruptly. Anything to change the subject. He was _sweating_ now - and he made it a point to never sweat on weekends.

"And _how_ did you get clearance to come up here alone?" asked Holly, letting Artemis off the hook for now. The Council didn't let N°1 go to the bathroom without an entourage of bodyguards. Trips to the surface were usually out of the question.

Either N°1 took Artemis's hint to change the subject, or his focus just shifted to the new topic very quickly. It was extremely hard to tell with N°1. "Oh, I'm not here alone," he said. "About twenty officers came with me. I don't know where they are, though, since they're shielded. But they brought quite a few guns, so we're completely safe." He smiled, cheerfully ignorant.

Artemis eyed the vast surroundings, imagining all of the Neutrinos that were no doubt pointed right at his head. "Anyone _else_ come with you, N°1?" he prompted the imp.

N°1's eyes widened. "Oh, right! I knew I'd forgotten something." He collected himself, then snapped his fingers, red sparks appearing briefly in his hand. After a moment, he gestured broadly to the tree behind him. "I just so happen to have brought another friend with me..."

Suddenly, Artemis and Holly saw a lemur weaving in and out of the tree's branches.

"Jayjay!" beamed Holly. Artemis sighed in relief.

_Finally, some of that plain old luck_ , he thought. _I've only been waiting all morning for it_.

Their furry friend scampered down to the ground. He climbed into Holly's arms, cuddling up to her. Artemis was much more reluctant, but eventually gave in to Jayjay's request for cuddling as well.

"Come on, Arty," said Holly, a twinkle in her eye, "do that purring thing again."

"That sounds truly fascinating," said N°1.

* * *

As N°1 and Holly played with Jayjay, Artemis stepped away from the pond to take a video call. He may or may not have tripped over a shielded officer, who yelled "D'arvit, Fowl!"and gave him a warning zap with his buzz baton. Artemis walked much more carefully after that.

He pressed accept on his phone screen, and was greeted with Foaly's cheeky grin.

"What?" said Artemis blandly.

"You're always so grumpy, Artemis, doesn't anyone ever hug you?" asked Foaly. Still, the centaur's good spirits couldn't be dampened by Artemis. He wiggled his eyebrows. "How's everything going up there?"

Artemis glanced at the pond. N°1 was making both Jayjay _and_ Holly levitate a good ten feet off the ground. "There have been a few minor hiccups, but we're back on track now. Albeit slightly malnourished."

"... I really need to hear this story someday," said Foaly. "So, any surprise appearances by your favorite demon warlock-turned-astronaut?"

"Yes, but it was no surprise." Artemis examined his nails, which were becoming less immaculate by the minute.

"That's - that's not possible," spluttered Foaly. He did not like being anticipated - _especially_ by a Mud Man. "You didn't even _ask_ for him in your email."

"Oh, I still knew he was coming."

"And how is that?"

"If I would've asked you to send N°1, you would've resisted - said it was impossible, felt like being difficult, whatever you want to call it. But since I didn't ask, you thought you were being clever by surprising me." Artemis smirked. "Simple reverse psychology, that's all."

Foaly stared at him. "Okay, I'm never going to say this again," he said, "but I think Holly might be a very lucky woman." He paused. "Or she's insane." And then he disconnected the call.

Artemis rolled his eyes. "Those aren't mutually exclusive," he said to himself.

* * *

When Artemis got back to the pond, Holly left Jayjay with N°1. The imp and the lemur continued to roll around on the ground, having more fun than should've been possible.

She walked up to Artemis, her face flushed with joy and light. "Okay, give it up," she said. "This morning, you could barely come up with a coherent sentence. How'd you put this together?"

"I have my ways," he replied, glad to return to his favorite pastime: withholding information.

Holly rolled her eyes. "Then _why'd_ you do this?"

Artemis shrugged. "It's... supposed to be sentimental," he grinned.

"Well," she crossed her arms, "it was a very nice thing to do, anyway."

"'Nice' might be a stretch, Captain. After this morning."

"Yes, you're incredibly lucky that I'm the forgiving type." Holly smirked, once again grabbing Artemis's tie and pulling his face down to hers. In theory, this approach should've worked this time, since Artemis Senior and Angeline were not anywhere near the pond.

Unfortunately, it was at that exact moment that Jayjay came from out of nowhere, crawling up Artemis's leg and wedging himself between the two of them. Artemis scowled as the lemur smugly licked his face.

N°1 stood up and rejoined the group, shaking grass from his stumpy hindquarters. "Well, one of those officers just tried to electrocute me, so I guess it's time for me and Jayjay to be going," he said sadly. "Major security risks. Not enough armed forces around. Things like that."

Artemis clutched his sleeve that had been singed by the buzz baton. "Yes, heaven forbid any officers sacrifice their lives to protect you from danger."

"It's actually more likely that they'd sacrifice _your_ lives to protect me," said N°1, completely serious.

They said their goodbyes. N°1 promised to send Holly postcards from the moon; Artemis made N°1 promise to notify him if he uncovered any of NASA's secrets. Jayjay whined longingly as N°1 pried him from Artemis's shoulder. When both of them had shimmered away, Holly looked up at the sky.

"Look at that," she said. "Gone for five seconds, and it's already getting cloudy."

"Yes, for a little, all-powerful demon warlock, he's quite... well, powerful."

Holly frowned. "I guess we won't be able to finish our walk. If it starts pouring rain."

"Oh, I'd say we still have an hour before that happens," said Artemis, checking his watch. "That gives us plenty of time."

"For what?"

Artemis looked at Holly far too innocently for it to have _not_ been mischievous. "Well, we'll obviously need to construct some form of bivouac, don't you think?"


	9. In the Best Possible Way

Artemis and Holly followed the manor's sidewalk to its end, then started up a green hill. The effort Artemis had to exert to climb said hill was so great, he nearly gave up on marriage then and there.

"It was one thing when you were twelve," smirked Holly, hauling him by his sleeve, "but _this_ is just sad, Artemis."

Artemis continued to let her drag him up the hill. "There's a limit to how much a person can change," he said.

"Don't I know it." She rolled her eyes. "So tell me, why the sudden interest in bivouacs?"

"Well, Orion _did_ save our lives," he pointed out begrudgingly. "I thought he deserved a moment of satisfaction, after all the years I've spent suppressing him."

"Hmm, I'd say you've done an awful job of suppressing _certain_ parts of him," she said, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled wryly. "That is possibly correct."

When they got to the top of the hill, Holly took a sharp breath. As soon as Artemis had pointed them in this direction, of course she'd known where they were headed; there are some things you don't forget, places you _feel_ in your bones, no matter how much time has passed. But it still took her breath away. Artemis's hand found her own, and they began making their way down the worn path.

"A little ironic, don't you think?" she whispered.

"Well, every day needs a little bit of irony, Captain."

There, at the base of the valley, was a familiar gravestone surrounded by a familiar bed of orange roses. Artemis knew that this was a paradox of nature; it had been his own life force that had grown the roses, so they should have withered away _years_ ago. And yet, there they were, stretching out over the grave for at least ten feet. Their petals seemed like they'd been crystallized in their most vibrant state. The stems looked fragile, though, like all it would take was a cricket sneezing to knock them down. He'd have to be careful of that.

Inside the floral ring, there was a fresh hole in the ground; it was about as wide as a car tire. Off to the side of all this lay a metal crate. It looked like it contained a variety of building supplies: Plexiglas beams, a tarp, nuts and bolts, and various tools (Artemis shuddered at this). And suddenly, crawling out from behind the crate while buttoning his bum-flap...

"Is that Mulch?" asked Holly.

"You know," Artemis replied in disbelief, "I believe it is." He had not specifically asked for the dwarf to deliver the bivouac supplies. But it made sense that someone who could tunnel above ground quickly would be the obvious choice for 'delivery boy.' He realized that Foaly _had_ been able to surprise him, after all.

"Well, well," Holly called to the dwarf when they reached the bottom of the hill. "If it isn't my favorite felon."

Holly ran up to hug the smelly dwarf, Artemis reluctantly letting go of her hand. " _Second_ favorite, I hope," he called after her. She winked back at him.

"Hey, now," said Mulch, returning her hug, "all of my charges were dropped after Gruff and I stopped that gate from opening, or whatever - saved the world as we know it, in case you forgot-"

"I somehow _did_ forget that part, actually."

"-and I just so happen to be a legitimate, not to mention _world-class_ troll whisperer now. So no calling me a felon." He paused, then added, "At least during business hours."

"Well, I'm glad such an in-demand _professional_ could spare an hour to bring us some building supplies."

"Oh no, it took _way_ longer than that." Mulch petulantly shook one of his meaty fingers. "All of these boards, and beams, and _duck tape_. Had to make several trips - I could've pulled a muscle, Holly! The things I do for you kids..."

Holly's eyebrows raised. "Kids? I'm _ninety-two_ , Mulch!"

"Yeah, but when you hang around this one," he waved a hand at Artemis, "it evens out a bit."

Artemis followed behind Holly, gingerly picking his loafered-way through the grass and dirt. "And _I_ am twenty-four."

Mulch shrugged. "If you were a fairy, you'd still be in diapers."

"Oh yes, watch me count my blessings." Artemis rolled his eyes. "You'll be helping us with the building, then?" he asked, a little too hopefully. _All the better that he's here, really_ , he thought. _I dare say I was being optimistic regarding my ability to actually construct a bivouac. Too much lifting._

"Me and selfless manual labor? Don't make me laugh." He winked at Artemis. "You'll have to work for this one, Mud Boy."

Artemis groaned. The double meaning was not lost on him. He glanced at his nails, and realized that soon they would be the _antithesis_ of immaculate. They would be... _gross_.

* * *

Juliet looked at the twins' handiwork in approval.

"I've gotta say, boys, you two have really outdone yourselves this time."

"We couldn't have done it without you, Jules," said Beckett, climbing triumphantly into the contraption. Actually, it was more of a tumble, considering that he tripped over the edge on the way in.

Myles nodded astutely, then jumped in next and pulled the top shut over him and his brother. "And now for the transportation phase!"

Juliet positioned herself in front of their project. She took a deep breath, then attempted to heave it onto her shoulders.

"Urgh," she gasped, her joints threatening to pop out. Still, she couldn't get it to raise more than about a foot off the ground. After what felt like an eternity of holding onto the blasted thing, she let go with an _oomph_.

"Maybe we should try without you two inside it?" panted Juliet, using a manicured nail to wipe the sheet of sweat off her forehead.

A muffled protest came from inside the project. "No!" wailed Beckett. "That would completely ruin the surprise!"

"We'll need to call in some extra muscle," said Myles.

A grin spread on Juliet's face. "I know just who to call," she said, sprinting off down the hall. "Wait there for just a second, boys!"

Myles and Beckett were left alone.

... For quite some time, as it happened.

"Jules? Is _anyone_ out there?"

"This had better not be some kind of practical joke, Juliet... Can we get out now?... _Hello_?"

"'S all your fault, Myles."

" _My_ fault? This was _your_ idea, simpletoon!"

* * *

Mulch's farewell was riddled with sentimentalism, obviously.

"Arty, don hur your back, trawin' tuh lift a wrench or any'hing," he'd garbled, unfortunately _after_ he'd unhinged his jaw. "An' Holly, don you hur his back ei'ver... well, uh'less you have tuh." Then he'd unbuttoned his bum-flap and descended into the earth, leaving a disconcerting mound of, ah, _dwarf_ dirt right in the center of the burial site.

Artemis and Holly took a blanket from the crate, quickly covering up the area in question.

Naturally, they argued for several minutes over how they should start constructing the bivouac. Holly stomped off with beams under both arms and began to plant them around the flower bed, even though she knew as much about construction as Artemis did. Artemis grabbed the instruction manual from the crate and sulked off.

It took him several minutes to realize that he was reading the instructions upside down. "Like it makes a difference," he grumbled, turning the booklet around.

As he sat on the blanket that was placed directly on top of his (probably decomposed and now _skeletal_ ) previous body's grave _..._ well, Artemis was beginning to have second thoughts.

To be more specific, he had realized that this was the most objectively _terrible_ plan he'd ever had. Say what you will about the effectiveness of the last six steps of the plan - in Artemis's opinion, they had not been doomed to fail... doomed to _not_ succeed, perhaps, but not fail. However, he now had some even bigger questions for himself. Most specifically: _why_ had he thought that the construction of _anything at all -_ no matter the sentimental value - would work in his favor? And then there were the possibly traumatic effects of proposing on top of his _grave_...

Artemis rubbed his eyes. He had no business calling himself a master schemer - he had not thought this through at _all_.

_I suppose that's what happens when one plans a proposal in the middle of the night_ , he internally groaned.

If he had only done his planning just a few _days_ in advance, all of the morning's chaos... would not have happened, he realized sardonically. Perhaps he could've even come up with a plan that wasn't utterly _stupid_. He could've kept everything under control, and the day would've gone exactly as planned - awkward and forced, yes, but not explosive.

He felt a strong poke in his back, and turned to see Holly. Her hands were smeared with dirt, and she held out a wrench to him.

"Come on," she said, a soft smile threatening to appear on her lips. "Try not to break anything."

He chuckled softly, taking the wrench with unfamiliarity. "I make no promises," he said, standing up. As he followed her to the crate, he decided that perhaps his plan hadn't been _completely_ misguided. After all, a proposal without conflict would've been uncharacteristically tepid. He smiled. Not their style at all.

"Some genius you turned out to be," smirked Holly, as Artemis made futile attempts to fit square bolts into circular holes. "It's a shame Orion isn't here. I bet he'd know how to put this thing together."

Artemis's lip curled. "Do _not_ tempt him. He'll hear you."

* * *

"Dom! _Dom_!" called Juliet as she ran from room to room. Finally, she found him in Artemis's study.

Butler was sitting at the desk, rifling through stacks of paper and under items. He had no idea why, but he'd suddenly had a hunch. A patently terrifying hunch...

Juliet breathed a sigh of relief. "Hey, come with me," she said, grabbing his arm. "Long story short, the twins have a questionable plan, but I promised I'd help them, and by association that means your help has also been volunteered."

Before Juliet had pulled him completely out of the chair, Butler finally spotted what he'd been looking for. His eyes widened, and he brought a hand to his mouth. This was as visibly panicked as he ever got.

He turned to Juliet. "That sounds like a good idea," he said calmly. "Artemis forgot something, too. I think I had better bring it to him."

He grabbed the black velvet box off the desk, and the Butler siblings raced out the door.

* * *

The man and the elf tried their best. They really did. It had turned out that not only could they both be aptly described as "emotionally evasive" - they were both _terrible_ at construction as well.

Their temporary shelter was certainly not as visually pleasing as Artemis had imagined - Orion would have dropped dead at the sight. Each of the four Plexiglas beams was a different height than the others, lodged precariously into the ground (Holly had not wanted to plant them _too_ deeply... given what was, ehem, under the surface).

They had draped the tarp over the beams and secured it as best as they could manage - they _were_ only three feet and five feet, six inches, respectively. Also, Artemis had objected quite strongly to Holly's suggestion that she stand on his head to fasten the top of the tarp to the beams. So this was the best they could do.

"Hey, Artemis," Holly said through barely restrained laughter. "Look. There are _four_ beams."

Artemis looked at her like this was the least clever thing he'd ever heard. Holly laughed even harder.

Although their construction project was more or less completed now, there was still one more thing at the bottom of the crate. Artemis reached in and retrieved a small, wooden picnic basket.

As Holly came up behind up him, she heaved an over-dramatic sigh. "I know you felt good about the tea, but cooking another meal? Aren't you being a bit _too_ ambitious?"

"I'm always ambitious," Artemis pointed out. "But I didn't make this. It was in the crate."

"Thank Frond," said Holly. "Then you haven't had a chance to touch it yet. Here, give it to me before you burn it somehow." Artemis handed her the basket, slightly miffed that she had less confidence in his cooking than in the unidentified food they'd found at the bottom of a crate. Then again, he could not say he blamed her.

As Artemis and Holly crept into the bivouac, they both silently wondered what it would take to send the whole thing crashing down. Holly's guess was one of Mulch's weaker gas explosions. Artemis once again went with his "sneezing cricket" hypothesis.

They made themselves comfortable on the blanket inside. Holly decided that, with the blanket added, the mound of Mulch's discarded dirt made an alright seat for her. She certainly enjoyed towering over Artemis; he crossed his legs disdainfully, sprawled on the ground.

"I'm not sure I like you having the high ground," he said.

She looked down her nose at him, using her best "snooty" voice. "You should be used to that by now," she said. "I've always had it morally."

"And yet, here you are. About to dine on a man's grave."

"Only because he invited me."

Before she'd even finished speaking, though, she'd slipped off her seat, preferring to join Artemis on the ground. They began rifling through the contents of the picnic basket and wasted no time digging in. Breakfast _had_ left something to be desired, after all.

Artemis smiled as he read the note that had been tied to the basket.

_Artemis & Holly -_  
_Here's something that each of you will like._  
_Have a good afternoon - don't fight too much._  
_Then again, you probably already have.  
_ _\- Caballine_

The food was delicious and plentiful, and had been tailored to each individual. Vole curry for Holly, and caviar for Artemis. Both thought that the other's food smelled absolutely revolting, but apparently they were not _too_ revolted by each other, because they continued to sit side by side. Well, side by _very close_ side, as it were.

"Caballine makes cooking look so easy," said Holly, licking some sauce off her fingers. "After breakfast today, I didn't even know that was possible." She looked pointedly at Artemis.

"Yes, well... it's harder than it looks," he said.

By the end of the meal, Holly had somehow gotten even closer to Artemis. He now leaned back on the mound of questionable dirt. She rested her head on his shoulder, exhausted from the hearty meal; she had absolutely no other reasons for doing this, obviously.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Then, taking a breath, Holly lifted her head. She moved to sit across from Artemis, and then she looked at him. The air crackled with energy, and they were surrounded by fragrant roses. Her eyes seemed to be urging him on. This was it.

_She knows exactly what's going on_ , he thought, smiling. _As usual, she's spent this entire day just waiting for me to get my act together. I should've expected as much._

"Holly," he said. He reached into his pocket, and grasped...

... absolutely nothing. No box. No ring. _Nothing_. Artemis looked up at Holly, like a deer in the headlights. He had no words. He almost started hyperventilating.

"Artemis?" she said, her face flooded with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Oh... nothing," he stammered.

And then, in the distance, perhaps a cricket sneezed. Or maybe Mulch relieved himself of tunnel gas. One cannot be sure of these details, although the result is the same either way.

The bivouac collapsed.

Oh, how Orion would've sobbed to see it. The beams wobbling in their unstable holes, pulling them all off-balance and causing the entire thing to crash down. The tarp torn down by gravity, then forced out of the valley by the roaring wind. The delicate orange roses crumpling and wilting under the weight of nuts and bolts. And, of course,the upended and disoriented pair that lay at the center of the mess.

With a great effort, Artemis managed to prop himself up on his elbows. He clutched his throbbing head; it had been endlessly abused today. Tumbling to the floor _multiple_ times, crawling under tables, having large structures _collapse_ on him... He'd never expected a marriage proposal to be just as life-threatening as a world-saving adventure.

Holly had landed squarely on top of him. She pushed herself up and rested her chin on his chest, heaving deep breaths. He was shaking and covered with debris. Her hair was a fluffed-up mess. They looked at each other.

And that is when, as is so often the case, it began to rain.

"You know, Captain," said Artemis, "I have a hard time understanding _why_ you choose to spend time with me."

Holly laughed. "Oh, well you know me. I couldn't do without you."

"In that case, I think I must have better luck than you," he said, smiling.

The raindrops were each the size of Ireland. Well, not really. But they might as well have been, for how quickly and effectively they drenched the pair.

"So, you were saying something?" said Holly. She was surprisingly casual, given their current state. "Before all hell broke loose, of course."

"Ah, yes." Artemis grimaced, mentally berating himself for forgetting the ring. He'd been so busy trying to put out fires all morning, he was not sure the ring had even made it into his pocket at _all_ that day. Of _all_ the things he could've forgotten, he knew that this one would lead to the most disappointing outcome by far.

"It's just, well..." he trailed off, for once at a loss for words. He looked around, at the absolute mess that he'd made of the valley. He thought of the absolute mess he'd made of the morning, too. His eyes met Holly's, and he sighed. "Goodness, I've fouled this one up quite a bit already, haven't I?"

"Maybe," she said. "But you've done it in the best possible way, at least."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, collecting himself. That is, as much as he could in the ruins of a collapsed bivouac and a veritable monsoon.

"Holly," he said, "what would you say if I told you I'd misplaced the r-"

"Wait! _Wait_!" came a muffled cry.

Artemis and Holly broke out of their stupor, looking towards the voice. Up, at the top of the hill, were two familiar faces standing in the rain: Butler and Juliet... and a golden box.

Now, you might've been expecting a plain old wooden box. Badly painted and rickety. Something one might make in a junior high woodworking class. However, that was not the case this time.

The box was closer to a professional sculpture than anything else. Its paint was a gleaming gold color, smooth and ornate. Its sides had been painstakingly shaped to resemble stacked bars of gold. It is truly unclear how two twelve-year-olds were able to create such a work of art in a single day. Nevertheless, that is exactly what they'd done.

Artemis realized that the twins had taken one particular WikiHow article - in which it had suggested jumping out of a box and proposing - quite literally. He was not sure whether he should be exasperated, impressed, or exorbitantly grateful.

Butler and Juliet journeyed down the incline, carrying the box with them. Slowly but surely, Artemis and Holly managed to sit up in the pile of destroyed building materials.

When the Butlers reached the ruined valley, Juliet's furrowed eyebrows raised. "In God's name, Artemis, what did you _do_?"

Artemis glared at her. "I'll have you know that _this_ ," he gestured around at the mass chaos, "was Mother Nature's fault, not mine."

Juliet shrugged. "You probably did something to annoy her a long time ago."

Before Artemis could offer a retort, there was a loud _thump_ from inside the box. "And now, the moment you've been waiting for!"

"It's the moment _for which_ you've been waiting, Beck."

And right on cue, Butler and Juliet lifted up the box's gold-plated top. Myles and Beckett rose up from inside the box, jumping onto the wet grass; Myles would've slipped and gotten a concussion had Beckett not held him up by the sleeve. With them, they brought armfuls of fresh orange roses.

_Well, they know how to set the mood_ , thought Artemis dumbly.

The twins quickly scurried around Artemis and Holly, trying not to trip over the beams as they scattered roses all around them (Beckett also threw a big armful directly over their heads). Once the couple had been sufficiently surrounded with a field's worth of flowers, Myles and Beckett stepped back to admire their work.

Butler stepped into the wreckage, bending down to Artemis. "I think you forgot this," he said, smiling. He pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket, and gently placed it in Artemis's hand.

"Th-thanks," stammered Artemis. Holly's breath hitched, her eyes widening.

Butler stood up quickly, making his way out of the flower bed. "We'll leave the rest to you two, then."

Juliet winked at them. "Have fun," she said, smiling ear to ear.

Myles and Beckett beamed at each other, high-fiving. Then the four of them started walking back up the hill, the twins gasping as they tried to keep up with the Butlers' long strides. After a minute, Artemis and Holly were again alone in the valley.

Artemis turned to her. She was watching him intently, holding her breath.

"This day... has not gone as expected," he finished lamely.

Holly ran a hand through his hair, and he found that he was suddenly far from annoyed to have a dirt-smeared hand in his hair. "Well, you know," she said, "sometimes things don't go according to plan. And they turn out exactly right."

Artemis chuckled. "Funny how that works, I suppose." He looked into her big eyes. One hazel, one blue. Taking a breath, he held the small black box in both hands.

"Holly," he began, his hands trembling, "you are my best friend, to put it simply. We've been to hell and back together - traveled through time and space, faced death on a weekly basis - we even survived this whole day." He laughed softly at himself. "But you've... you've never given up on me. Even when I gave you every reason to. I kidnapped you, for heaven's sake. You've always been my... my better half, I think. You are... you're truly magical, Captain."

He slowly opened the box. Holly gasped; her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. Inside the box lay a thin gold ring. Mounted on the top of the ring was an unornamented gold coin. With a small hole exactly in the center.

Artemis smiled. "You were the first person to ever tell me I had a spark of decency inside of me," he said. "Holly... will you marry me?"

Her eyes moved up from the ring, to look at this man who was so many things. He had caused her so much grief and heartbreak; he had also been the reason for nearly every treasured memory she'd ever had. Infuriating, intoxicating. A thief, a hero. Sometimes a genius, sometimes an _idiot_. But _Frond_ , did she love him.

"Yes, Arty," she said, tears welling in her eyes as she laughed. "I will."

Although he would never admit it, there were tears in Artemis's eyes too as he carefully slid the ring onto Holly's slim finger. A perfect fit. They looked up at each other, and Artemis thought that Holly had never looked so exquisite as when she smiled at him then.

She did not bother grabbing his tie this time. Instead, she simply wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, their lips crashing together. After several moments, she broke away, laughing as a smile curled her lips. Artemis raised an eyebrow in question.

"This has all been terribly sentimental of you," Holly mused.

Artemis smirked. "I know," he said. "That's what I planned."

And then he took her face in his hands, and he kissed her. Just as blue sparks of magic sparked at the contact, fireworks exploded in the sky (courtesy of Myles and Beckett, of course). The rain continued to pour down, enveloping them in a shower of kaleidoscopic lights and brilliant, golden lighting.

* * *

Artemis Senior and Angeline Fowl remained sitting at the dining table. They munched hungrily on their tacos; it was about the only breakfast item from which more than a single bite could be taken, and they were quite famished. It was also the first time the two adults had ever eaten such an eccentric food.

Artemis Senior leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his hands. "They're quite an explosive couple, aren't they?"

"Very much, dear."

They were silent for a few moments. When Artemis Senior spoke again, his voice was much quieter. Proud, even.

"They'll be getting married, won't they?"

Angeline smiled, leaning over and kissing her husband on the cheek. "Oh yes, Timmy," she said. "That is one thing I'm quite sure of."

**The End**


End file.
